The Left Behind
by Aglaranna
Summary: Five years after the death of Charles Xavier, after the War between mutants and mankind, The X-men are scattered.  Some have taken refuge on the Colonies circling above the earth.  Still others have been left behind. And now the left behind want revenge.
1. Prolouge

Prologue: Just a Mutant  
  
Bang. A shot rang through the crowded busy streets of Bayville. A man slumps forward, bullet embedded in his brain. A bald man in a wheel chair. All round him, men and women pass by unnoticing. Hurrying onwards with their busy day. 'Just a mutant' they tell themselves, 'he was just a mutant.' They'd seen his face on the television, heard his speeches to the world, some had even been moved by them. Since the creation of the Sentinel and prosecution of mutants had begun, Charles Xavier had been a key figure on the world stage. A strong mutant voice. 'Just a mutant.' They died every day. Some shot, others by riots and burnings, and some still thrown in prison for no reason at all. He was just another mutant. Just another mutant...  
  
There are screams now, people are waking, are seeing, mutants are crying. Boys and girls some old and some young, crowd around the man. A woman, her hair a bright vibrant white, shakes him and shakes him, begging him, pleading for him to wake. His head bobbles back and forth like a bobble head on a dashboard. Eyes are shut, a relaxed almost peaceful look alights his face. Just another mutant, and the world will never be the same.  
  
A few months later  
  
"Professor Charles Xavier was a man of vision, a man who believed that mutants and humans could coexist peacefully in this world. His vision caused him to create a school where he could influence and guide the world's hope for a peaceful future. Mutant children. He trained and educated them in their powers allowing them to reenter the world as well-educated individuals. Charles understood the need for peace and prosperity. He was a leader, a teacher, a father, and a friend. He left his legacy in his children whom he loved and cared for with all his heart. For my part I will do my best to take up his cause and make it my own. This my mutants I promise you."  
  
Excerpt from the Eulogy to Charles Xavier by Magnus Maximoff  
  
In the years later the world darkened and war brewed between the humans and the mutants. Thousands of men marched against the mutant phenomenon. The armies of humans stood well equipped against the collective forces of mutants. Each side trying to create genocide, each side squabbling like a handful of little children, and no peace was reached. The war itself lasted for five long years spreading pestilence and hatred over the planet, until finally, finally it ended with thousands of explosions destroying billions of lives human and mutant alike. No paper or television station could decide a victor. The world was left bankrupt and in debts by the billions. Unable to reach a better plan the world's top scientists, human and mutant, combined their abilities to create ten large space colonies from many of the large asteroids in the Belt. Hurriedly humankind and mutant kind boarded shuttles to head towards their new home. Everyone who could afford to buy a ticket that is...  
  
Our story begins on the blue planet, in a country once known as America, on the worn and tattered streets of New York City. Beneath a scorched sky skyscrapers that once scratched the heavens are toppled and lonesome. Inhabited by a population of less than two hundred, stealing, looting, and death are an everyday occurrence. Fires burn on the streets outside many of the old malls, men and women huddled over them sharing stories of better days and dreams of space. Little children play together barefoot on the cold and icy streets, tossing the ball back and forth, beneath the lines of drying laundry. Biker gangs hang near the abandoned subways, blasting out rivals that come to near. In clothes of slashed grays and browns the dealers peddle their merchandise in long black trucks. Handing out the latest military weapons to the unfortunate teens. Heaps of trash piled as high as a small building provide good hiding place for anything illegal from the New World Federal Investigators, or the NW Feds. Gunfire had long since ceased to bother the city's inhabitants. It was an everyday occurrence. A city of misery and despair, a place of dreams shattered, a city bent on sucking up all hope. In these days an old television set was a person's most cherished possession. Allowing them to keep up with the ever-changing ruling policies of the United Space Colonies, won by fighting mutant gladiators from their respective colonies. The Tournament changed destinations every five years from colony to colony. Until the Tournament desecrated the homes in each of the colonies it was ordained that the battlefield would be Earth. Now the citizens live in fear as fight after fight happens upon their scarred homeland. This is a city of fear and desperation. This city could be any on the planet, in any part of the world, but it was New York, the City of Dreams. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One: The Lost Ones  
  
They'd traveled so far, two years before they'd been experiments of a sickly-minded scientist, among many other mutants; they'd gone through so many evolutions in their powers. Now, they might only be recognizable to those closest to them, those who'd known them best. They'd traveled down from the cold wastes of Canada, searching for their pasts. Senses leading them to the desolate city of New York.  
  
They lived in an abandoned office building; they were young, in their late teens early twenties. They're faces, faces once so innocent, now were hard from years of scrounging on the streets. They'd fought mutant and human gangs alike for this territory, in creatively using their powers they'd managed to fend off all intruders. Both small and slight, one dressed in tan khakis, a black low cut tank top, a slick leather jacket, and sunglasses. The other wore pants of black leather, a dark green spaghetti strap, a long leather trench coat, black sunglasses, and black gloves. The first girl, a petite brunette, pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, and her eyes are a sadly warm blue. The face once emanated such innocently caring warmth it would have made the coldest man smile; no longer was that the case. The first girl was once called Kitty Pryde, in the days of the X-men and Charles Xavier. Now she was known only as codename: the Shadowcat. Kat to her closest friends and compatriots. The second girl, a pale brunette, wore her hair bobbed, the front bangs were naturally a vibrant perfect white, her face had always been lonesome and cold, set apart and forbidden physical contact, now it was hard from years of torture. Eyes of a purplish gray glittered beneath gothic makeup enhancing the paleness of her skin. This girl was known as codename: Rogue, though Kat called her Ty.  
  
"Ah hate just sittin' like this!" Ty yelled slamming her fist into the table. Kat smiled, Ty's southern accent always thickened when she was angry. "Yah wanna watch the tube?" she asked slumping onto the ratty couch.  
  
Kat sighed, watching Ty flip through the channels, her face the epitome of boredom. "We like do this every night Ty. Why can't we just like do something like else for a change?"   
  
"Careful yer startin' ta sound like a valley girl again. Ah, Jean's on. " Ty slumped more deeply into the couch as she stared at Jean Grey. The woman on the screen was exactly like the one she remembered from her and Kat's days at the Xavier institute. 'Same old Jean.' Ty thought, pinpricks of annoyance running through her system. ''Course she never had ta deal with bein' an experiment.' Shuddering, and swamped, Ty fell back into memories.  
  
Men in white lab coats lined the room. Everything dark and tinged green, the water round her bubbled like screaming souls, x-rays of her skull and bones were attached to the wall. Little black lines covered her face as a man leaned in ready to inject some sort of silver liquid.  
  
Ty leapt from the rat eaten couch with a roar. In a flash three long prongs ejected from her knuckles. She raised them above the TV. And Kat caught her hand before it could descend. "Let go." She snarled.  
  
"You think I don't live with those memories too Ty? You think I'm not wakened in the middle of the night screaming like you? What they did to me?" Kat's grip tightened, Ty's bones began grinding into one another as the tendon's shrieked and the blood vessels burst. "Are you like going to punish Jean for what they did to us?"  
  
Ty growled something under her breath. Then she glanced up at Kat, eyes flashing. "What they made me do to Jose and the others."  
  
Kat sighed and released Ty's wrist. "I know, but it's like not your fault. They got what they deserved, like all of 'em." She glanced at the smiling Jean Grey, giving her speech of hope to the people of the colonies. Grey's hands were spread as if welcoming everyone. Kat hoped she was happy, but that didn't stop her from hating Jean and the others. She and Ty had traveled down from Canada to find them, their one memory that had kept them alive for those two years of hell. Upon arrival at the destroyed mansion, they'd found that all the X-men had fled to the Colonies to start a new life. No, they deserved to be happy, all of them. But she hated them. They'd forgotten her.  
  
"Can yah believe that Miss Perfect is thah Ambassador of thah Colonies?" Ty smiled, she'd gained control of her absorption abilities, but it'd been too late when she'd finally learned. Now there were so many memories cruising through her mind that she wasn't sure which were hers and which were the memories of the others. Their powers weren't incredibly useful to her. Only Lia's healing factor, which was the same as Wolverine's, it had given the white-coats the ability to inject adamantium into her body without killing her. They'd played with Kat's genetics, giving her incredible strength, speed, and accuracy.   
  
'What do you intend to do with them?' 'Sell them of course. To the highest paying Colony.' 'Why not to one of the Godfathers or the Mob Boss?' 'Fool the Colonies will pay much more for perfect soldiers to use in the Tournaments.'  
  
'The perfect soldier. Right.' Ty smiled, she felt so feral, she hated the sense of ecstasy killing that bastard had given her. The pleasure, it made her feel like something lower than an animal. But they'd deserved their deaths. They deserved it. She wanted them to have deserved it. 'Scott.'  
  
"Scott?"  
  
Scott Summers, Agent of UNCA glanced up, his quartz sunglasses glimmering in the artificial light of the Colony 234: New Hope. His face had long matured from pretty boy, to rugged fighter. He and his team had spent their last few years taking down the Drug Dealer Networks in the Colony. His heart remained beating steadily, few years ago though, the sound of her voice would have put him into a coma. "Hey Jean." He said, gaze still locked on the small blue planet ahead of them. "How's life?" His husky and commanding voice had only become more sure and direct over time. He'd been a natural born leader at the mansion and that was the same now. Looking back down to the touch pad screen below him, flipping through images of criminals convicted, and missing person's yet to be found.  
  
Jean Grey started she'd expected many things from her former boyfriend, but not this. "Is that all you can say to me after all these years? How's life?" Her long red hair was bound back into a thick bun. Eyes of brilliant emerald green glimmered with wetness. Her eyebrows contorted into a furious position.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" Scott looked up from his work, and back at her. "Hey do want to know what life has been like since you left?" Twirling his touchpen in his fingers as he said. "Or maybe, hey do you want to know why I'll never forgive you?"  
  
Jean yelled. "I knew where to find you! Doesn't that count for anything anymore?" He shook his head as he stood. Shoving the pen into his pants pocket. "Nothing has been right with you since we came here."  
  
"Maybe that's because not all of us came, Jean." Scott turned to the picture of him and Rogue that he always kept hidden in his missing person's section. It had been taken in those precious months before Professor Xavier's death. Before the War, before they'd come here. Rogue, memories of her kept him awake in the long hours of the night. Forcing him to relive every moment spent with her. He missed her. Checking his watch, he smiled at Jean. "I'm going, got an appointment with Logan. See you."   
  
Jean touched her cheek as she watched him go. "Why won't you stop hating me, Scott? Why won't you stop hating yourself?"  
  
Hey folks what do ya think? Please read and review. I'll bring Kitty's boy in later. So see ya later. 


	3. Chapter Two

Hey folks sorry this took a while but please be patient, writing is hard, so please review.  
  
If ya'll are wonderin' this is a Rogue/Scott maybe Remy, and Pietro/Kitty fic.  
  
Southern accent: i,o and e,=ah  
  
bahfer=before  
  
Chapter Two: Bikers and Drifters  
  
A young man traced his finger over the deep grooves of the mahogany table. Twirling a large silver ring absently with his thumb. Making passing smiles at the attractive girls, his smiles were unconsciously seductive, always had been. With hair of burnished silver, eyes like the tossing winter ocean, and the body of a beach hottie, Pietro Maximoff carefully swirled his glass. He attuned his ears to the mumbling voices around the bar. A man, hat pulled low over his eyes, muttered. "Colony punk." Sending a shooting glare his way. The man was old, wrinkles apparent beneath the brim. Finding it hard to see in the flickering lights, Pietro felt a wash of pity. But he didn't have time for pity. "Take everything, leavin' us poor earth folk nothing. Bastard muties, bastard humans! Nothin's right 'bout this place anymore." Pietro met the man's eyes; they burned with irrepressible hatred causing shivers to run up and down Pietro's spine. A young girl reached out to comfort her grandfather, a little ratty brown teddy hanging from one hand. Soft white stuffing was popping out from the seams, busting from the ears, and the bear had only one eye. It appeared to be winking, almost condescendingly, a little smile on its face. Dirt clung to its fur and little dust balls tickled its nose. The little girl clung to grandfather's hand, squeezing it reassuringly, fear hung about her as a rotten stench to a bag of garbage. Pietro sniffed disdainfully, but his heart ached. These people hurt with a pain incomprehensible to him. But, then they lived in a hell inescapable.   
  
"Yeah bucko, I'm a Colony punk! You want to make something of it!" Pietro growled shaking his fist. Conscious of the stares many young blondes were sending his way, he threw down a few bills. He stalked out. Grabbing his blue and silver motorcycle from the drive, he swung aboard. Pulling on his motorcycle jacket of blue leather, the silver lettering of Quicksilver burned onto the back. He revved the engine. "Another dead end!" He snarled. Reaching into his pocket, he jerked out a picture of a girl. The picture was wrinkled and had long since lost its sheen over the many years of caresses. The girl was a slim brunette, her hair pulled back into a characteristic ponytail, sitting cross-legged, wearing her characteristic cashmere sweater, white tank top, and blue hip hugger capris. A bubbly airhead, valley girl smile on her face. She looked so happy; it always caused a wistful smile to touch his lips. Remembering how he took this snapshot sent him laughing. He'd caught her on a small hill, before the death of her Professor, before that aura of sadness began following her everywhere. Her smile wasn't for him though; it'd always been for Lance. Or for Kurt, the fuzzy imbecile! She'd never liked him. Pietro the creep, the egotistical jerk, he'd always had a scorecard, that scorecard had gotten him into so many problematic situations. It made him the playboy of Bayville, defined him as a bad boy. Most girls liked bad boys, Kitty had, just not his type. "I wonder what happened to her." He knew she'd vanished during the War, left Bayville with Rogue, before the destruction of the Xavier Mansion; it wasn't as if he couldn't get on without her. She just haunted his dreams. Every girl he'd been with was a shadow of her. A bubbly airhead bimbo. Smacking himself in the forehead, saying a few choice words, he sped off into falling night.  
  
A simple kiss plaguing his darkness encrusted memories.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------'  
  
'You're mine Kitten, you'll always be mine.'   
  
'Shove off! You are like so not the one!'  
  
He leaned in gently taking her in his arms, eyes of silver blue searching her face, memorizing every feature. 'You know you want it Kitten.' Her heart thudding like a locomotive in her chest, heat rising to her cheeks. Leaning forward he let his lips brush hers.  
  
Kat jerked awake, massaging her temples, her bed was wet and so was she. Soaked to the bone. Slippery brown hair dripping over burning red cheeks. "Damn!" She muttered. "Why am I like dreaming about Pietro." She sighed, glancing across the room to where Ty lay tossing and turning in her sleep. Snuggling back against the makeshift pillow, Kat waited for sleep. His face hung in her mind, those blue arrogant irresistible eyes grinning at her. Like he knew something she didn't. 'Argh! This is like so disgusting! I don't like want to be thinking about Pietro!' He consumed her thoughts and dreams late at night. He'd infected her conscious thought in the Compounds two years ago. And had been unable to get rid of him since. 'Grrr!' she growled under her breath. It was so disgusting. Her thinking of Pietro, 'dreaming' of Pietro, it was almost as if...she would not say it! With a frustrated scream she buried her head into the pillow. "I HATE Pietro!" Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, everything led back to Pietro. Well, Kat comforted herself; it was only thoughts from a disorganized mind late at night. Only thoughts of a disorganized mind...  
  
Loud shrieks slammed into her sensitive ears. "Get away! Get away from me!" Time to wake Ty. Kat leapt from the bed with a panther's grace. Her eyes glittering in the soft light, as she knelt next to her best friend. Moonlight seemed to stroke their forms, alighting them in an unnatural light. Making Ty seem the porcelain doll. Kat sighed.  
  
Outside, little lights like baby stars flickered and burned in the Sleepless City. Folks wandered the streets below, as bikes thundered by. An occasional car brushed past a lonely soul. The artificial stars stroked the darkness, as disgruntled rumblings of motorbike engines complained to the sympathetic lyrics of the humming generators. While clocks with condescending smiles on their faces leered at the winking dim glow of the street lights.  
  
Kat grimaced as she reached for Ty's shoulders. The girl tossed striking out in her sleep. Her rogue abilities were unchecked when she slept. Taking both shoulder blades in her vice-like grip, she shook her violently. Ty's shoulders crunched under her grip. The girl stirred. "Like wake up! Ty! Wake up! You're like having another nightmare."   
  
"What happened? What tahme ahs it?" Ty asked glancing about, beads of sweat dangling from her hair and dribbling down her face. She was soaked much like Kat was. Her pillow was drenched from the many nightmares of the past and present. "Ah must'iv been havin' another nahghtmare." She laughed. "But yah look lah shit!"  
  
Kat sighed, "You don't like look much better girl. Whatcha liked dreamin' about?"  
  
"Ah was dreamin' 'bout thah Compound 'gain. Can't shake thahse mem'ries." Deep black circles ran beneath her eyes, and she squeezed them shut small tears running down her face. "Aht just won't go 'way." She sighed. "Yah know, when thahy were puttin' in the admantahum, all ah could thahk 'bout was thah others. Through the paahn ah just saw thahy're faces. Floatin' bahfer mah eyes." Ty sighed again. It was a wistful sigh, a sigh of unfulfillment. "But he's prob'ly tahgether with Jean. Ah dunno."  
  
"Well do you like want to know what gave me like a nightmare?" Kat asked, her blue gaze locked with Ty's. Ty's eyes for all their harshness lit up.  
  
"Yah had a nahghtmare too. Ah thahght Ah'd woken yah." Her lips pulled back into sympathetic smile, the sadness that locked in them was directed at Kat. Her face was so drawn and worn from the endless nightmares she endured when every her eyelids shut. They often were about the Compound, but sometimes they reminded her of memories long lost. Ty had "forcibly inherited" her healing factor from Lia, it was much like Wolverine's except the youth regeneration didn't seem to occur. The nightmares were horrible causing her to toss and strike out with her claws many a time in the night. But those claws and Kat's gun had won them their home. Ty hated being called Rogue, the name forced her to remember better days. Days of what could only seem like bliss compared to the hellhole they lived in now. Spent in school learning how to control their powers with their beloved mentor Charles Xavier. The memories of his death plagued them through the day and through the night. Nightmares called up on some sickly jester's whim.  
  
Kat sighed, her sniping abilities had come at a price. But everything came at a price. "It was like so gross! I like dreamt about Pietro!"  
  
Ty wondered for a second if Kat had ever said a complete sentence without saying "like". "But yah don even lah Pietro. Do yah?"  
  
"Of course not! That's like completely gross!" Kat returned to her bed. Staring at the peeling paint of the ceiling.  
  
Ty flopped onto her back. "Whaht tahme is aht?"  
  
"Three o'clock."  
  
"Ah can't belaheve you lah Pietro! Of all thah egotahstical guys yah could fahnd. Aht had tah be Pietro."  
  
"Well you like Scott!" Kat growled back.  
  
"Ah do not!"  
  
"You like so do!"  
  
"Whaht does aht mattah? S'not lah wah're evah gonna see eahtha of 'em again."  
  
"And we like probably wouldn't like those two jerks if we like ever saw them again! So there!" The two girls laughed, in the darkness of the artificial lights of the Sleepless City. Sounding again like young teenage girls sharing girl talk. They shared laughter they'd been unable to find for many years.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"So you're plagued by memories of Rogue." Wolverine said, turning the bottle of whisky in his hands. He'd listened to Scott's forlorn ramblings for many hours as the young man had drowned his sorrows in beer. Logan had kept the boy from getting to tipsy, encouraging him to only have one bottle and go slowly. Scott still had to get back to his room in the Military Quarters. "I still worry about her from time to time too."  
  
Scott sighed, his red shades flashing in the light. "It's just that I've been haunted for the past few weeks. It wasn't so bad a few years ago. I'm just worried."  
  
Logan bit into his cheek. "You've also never forgiven yourself for deciding to come to the Colonies instead of looking for the girls. I know Jean was a major pusher for the Colonies. But you made it. It was tough. I would have preferred to look for Kitty and Rogue. Risk being left behind." Logan took a long swig of whisky. His rugged features hadn't changed over the past five years, still as stoic and feral as ever. The Wolverine and his team were the current Champions of the Tournament. They'd earned their place in history. Wolverine, Storm, and Iceman had, insuring remembrance of their names. Logan had married Ororo a few years back before the first Tournament. To Scott's knowledge they'd be expecting their first born sometime in May.  
  
"I few of my contacts on Earth told me that two girls of their description were seen in old New York. He sent me photos. Apparently Kitty has gotten good with a gun." Scott tossed the package across the table to Logan. Who flipped through the images. One of Kitty in her leather jacket shouldering her sniper, another of Kitty on her bike, then one of Rogue in a black trench holding a handgun, and several more of Rogue and Kitty, until his eyes rested on Rogue with her claws extended. "And Rogue has gone through a few changes."  
  
Logan held the image with trembling fingers. "How..." He whispered. Rogue's face captured the essence of a female version of him. Her gray eyes glittered ferociously as she stared down some approaching enemy.   
  
"My contact wasn't sure, but those claws are adamantium." Holding up a picture of solid steel doors with long x marks, he said. "Look, I know you've endured a lot having to listen to my sop stories. But I need your help to find the girls." Scott's eyes behind his unreadable shades bored into Logan's. 'I need your help to make sure she's all right.'  
  
Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter. I'm sorry for making the coupling so obvious for those of you who like suspense, but you never know. The next chapter should be coming soon. So don't be too impatient. See ya! 


	4. Chapter Three

Hey thanks for the reviews, I'll try to respond to your ideas. Please read and review. Idea=idaha Thick=Thahck Take=Tahke Chapter Three: Chance Meetings Kat,  
Meet my associate at the Waterfront at 8pm sharp. We have issues to discuss.  
  
Avalanche  
  
"Yah gonna go?"  
  
"I like guess so, I'm like not doing anything else interesting tonight." Kat crumpled the paper. "You like want to come?"  
  
"Nah Ah don' think so."  
  
The Waterfront was a small seedy pub the Manhattan waterside and a home to the roughest gangs of the City that Never Sleeps. Most often used as a negotiation point by the ruffians. Run by a square jawed balding man named Tony, this man was built like a barge, with eyes of dark crystal, and drooping belly that swung back and forth as he walked. Always wearing a grease-stained white-collared shirt, gray pants having long holes in the seams, and an apron that was fraying at each stitch. Tony was one of New York's most imposing figures, considered: the go-to guy when on the run from the law, the advice man when a problem was at hand, and the ever-faithful bouncer. A large man with a brisk tone and heavy-handed manner, the owner of an iron temper, and when he yelled it seemed as if a foghorn was bellowing. Despite all of this, he was a kindly man with a gentle soul, and used the Waterfront as a safe haven for many young frightened runaways.   
  
"Hey Tony." Kat said sliding onto a bar stool with a distinctive feline grace. Clothed in slick black leather pants and a purple spaghetti strap, she reminded Tony more of a leopard than the sweet little kitten he once knew. "What's like new?"  
  
Her words sent Tony reeling into memories he'd long left in the dusty corners of his mind. Two girls pushed their way through the battered door, both huddled close to one another. Their clothing was ripped and torn, barely more than rags hanging loosely from their starved forms. Their heads hanging low, greasy brown hair drifting over their pale faces, eyes dulled. One girl, a shivering little creature, a lock of pure white hair hanging over her forehead, with eyes of dark grayish purple sunken into shadowed sockets, her cheesy skin almost translucent in the flickering light, slipped towards the bar. Her friend with frightened pure blue eyes glances distrustfully at the men passing in and out around her. Her long hair unkempt, grease glittering in the darkened lighting, tiny cowlicks sticking out from the crown of her hair, Tony noticed her trying to make herself as small as possible. Men bumping into her seemed to pass through her like she was a ghost. The white locked rogue peeked over the counter at him. 'Could yah help us?'  
  
"Tony are you like there?" Waving her hand in front of his face Kat drew the old man back into reality. Worry crossing her innocent features and traveling through eyes that were hard and warm. A warm kitty smile from her washed away his tension. And he marveled at how she'd grown from the frightened trembling creature into a confident and self-assured tigress.   
  
Laughing with a thick Brooklyn accent, Tony smiled. "Just remembering the first time you and Ty walked through my door."  
  
Kat smiled thoughtfully, gaze drifting into space. "That was like so long ago, it seems like another lifetime." She slumped over her palm, eyes evaluating the sea of faces that lingered in the worn booths and the scarred tables. Cross checking each wrinkle and hair, sniffing the air, tasting the thousands of scents, one more disgusting than the last. Sweaty bodies coupled with dirt and grime, mixing with stale beer, old whiskey, and wine, Kat was sure it tasted like hog piss. It smelled as bad. "Couldn't you like get new beer, Tony?"  
  
"No, the shipment's been backed up for months." Tony watched Kat glance anxiously at the door and back to her watch. "Got a hot date tonight Kat?"  
  
After fluffing her ponytail, Kat groaned. "I like wish. No, Avalanche like wanted a meeting. He's like sending an associate of his to like meet me here."  
  
Tony sighed, putting the cracked glasses he was drying into a safe cupboard behind to bar. The behind the wood was a lining of solid steel, Tony never took any chances with his glasses. "I suppose a fight will happen then?"  
  
"It's like more than likely." Rolling her eyes, Kat said. "He like probably wants our like territory again. It's no big. We'll just like slap him around like we did last time." She grinned suddenly, eyes glittering with a feral light. 'Get out!' 'Make us!' Kat leveled her rifle at the porker in the lead. Blob had always been a big target. A loud boom ripped through the air as the Blob fell crashing to the ground. Revving engines echoed in the darkness. Avalanche's gang was a pushover. The ground beneath her trembled, he was mad. Kat grinned, one shot to the neck of the lead biker would put him away. Silent as a panther Ty moved, removing three from their bikes. 'Why don' y'all get thah idaha out of yah thahck skulls, yah can't tahke this place from us!' Ty screamed into the inky shadows of twilight.  
Shaking her head, Kat clutched the edges of the bar. "Are you all right Kat?" Tony asked, concern flooding his voice. Kat's fingers dug inches into the bar, tightening until her eyes widened like twin stars. Feral growls bubbled up, forcing their way through her teeth, as her arms struggled against an unseen foe.  
  
"Hey." A cool hand touched her shoulder. "Are you all right?"   
  
Kat whipped around with a snarl, her furiously wild eyes meeting calm silver blue. 'His eyes are like a stormy ocean.' She thought as all anger, terror, and primal rage melted away. His face was handsome, a light tan set off by pure white hair, a dashing smile seemed to belong on his face. His sexy eyes were filled with a worry that was uncharacteristic of them. 'Nice body, like snap out of it.' "Why were you like touching me!" She snapped as the stranger pulled his hand away.  
  
"You just looked like you were having a seizure." He said, voice full of an arrogant cockiness. Lips curling into a sneer as he said condescendingly. "But I guess I couldn't expect much from the Slums. Bartender, I'll take a tall beer." With a quickness she could barely follow, he slipped onto the barstool next to her.  
  
Tony grunted a reply and bustled away. "How like dare you!" Kat growled. This peacock was stealing her control. He kept slowly shredding her comfort level, creating nervous waves in her stomach. Swirling her drink and glancing at the door, she ignored him.  
  
"Waiting for someone?" He asked. Admiring eyes swept over Kat's body. 'She's hot.' He thought, and it struck a lonely chord in his heart. 'Kitty...'  
  
"None of like your damn business!"   
  
He smiled, she was feisty, and he liked feisty women. Rogue had been feisty, so had every girl he'd dated, Kitty had been the only exception. Ah, sweet innocent Kitty. She'd been a breath of fresh air. 'Next time I see Lance, I'm pounding his face into a brick wall!' His smile widened into an arrogantly sexy grin. Imagining what he'd do to Lance if he saw him, always made him smile. "How well do you know the city?"  
  
Kat furrowed her eyebrows and glared. "Like leave me alone!" Glancing back to door, she searched to room for her contact. 'I like just want to get out of here!' This man, he reminded her of someone, but she couldn't place his face. It was like an older Pietro's but his voice was too deep, too gentle, and far too caressing. Pietro's had always been a little nasally. While cracking her knuckles at the intruder a familiar smell hit her nostrils. The smell of over ripe garbage. When her nose hadn't been sensitive the smell had only annoyed her, now it sickened her. That smell belonged to only one mutant: Toad. 'I like can't believe Avalanche sent 'him'!'  
  
"Yo! Kat babe!" Todd Talansky hadn't changed much over the years. His hygiene problem had only grown worse with age. Flies followed him in small swarms. His mutation forcing him to walk with a stooped sort of stumbling gate. It was deceptive, since he was extremely agile and quick. Two bulbous yellow eyes underneath a mop of greenish blonde hair, always ogling at her. His conniving ways had only flourished in the Slums. He and most of the incompetent members of the Brotherhood had followed Avalanche, only after Mystique refused to take them off planet. "How's it hanging yo?"  
  
"You like are a deranged dope!" Kat hissed, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling. "I like know why you are like here, and I like have a message for Panther."  
  
"That's fine Kitty baby, but why don't we talk for a while yo!" Todd scooted closer. He leaned in gazing at Kat.  
  
"Kitty baby?" Pietro whispered, his voice inaudible to the two fighting around him. His heart thudding against his chest. 'She couldn't be...' He evaluated the woman before him, her feline grace and moments of primal fury were alien to him, Kitty had always had sweet and innocent eyes. This woman, Kat, her eyes were hard, furious, and sad. They were like alpine pools, sucking him in, drowning him in her sorrow. She couldn't be Kitty Pryde.  
  
Kat clenched her fists. "Get...a...way...from...me!" Snarling as her upper lip curled. "You like are like the most disgusting thing I've ever met!"  
  
"Come on Kitten." Todd said. "You know you want me yo!"   
  
'I love you Kitten. I'll never let you go.' His voice specially caressing the word Kitten. It was his word. 'You like mean it?' 'I'll never leave you.'  
  
'Liar!' Pietro watched Todd fly a good twenty feet, across the bar room. Kat's stinging slap echoing through the sudden silence. "Toad, you're like incorrigible!" She turned towards the door. "Oh and like tell Avalanche he can like go to hell!" Stalking out the door, she slammed it, leapt onto her motorcycle and drove away.  
  
"I forgot yo, how much stronger she is." Talansky groaned, peeling himself from the wall. He'd landed upside down and crooked. Leaving a second Toad sized impression next to the first he'd made a few weeks earlier. "Knew she didn't like being called Kitten." Glancing up at the tall man standing over him, he muttered. "Hey Maximoff."  
  
"Who was that Todd?"  
  
"Kat Pryde."  
  
"Pryde?" Pietro asked, a perplex expression darting over his face.  
  
Todd sighed. "Look yo, she used to called Kitty Pryde." Pietro stared at him disbelieving. "You know like bimbo valley girl." Imitating her, he bounced his head back and forth. Toad opened his mouth into frog smile, his jowls widening disgustingly. Large yellow teeth winking out. Pietro grimaced slightly.   
  
Taking Todd by the collar, Pietro slammed him back against to wall. "Never call her that!" He growled. "Now where does she live?" 


	5. Chapter Four

Hey folks, I'm so glad y'all have reviewed. It means a lot, and really keeps me motivated. So I just thought I'd thank you and tell you how much I appreciate it! I'll do my best to keep you guys hooked, but I can't make promises. So hope ya enjoy. In memories ''= quotations, + **= thoughts Chapter Four-Silvered Shadows  
  
'Kitten.' He whispered. Gentle silver bangs cascading over his stormy eyes. Voice deep and husky. 'Kitten.' In his dark black leather duster, setting his sterling silver dipped hair alight in the soft sunlight. Cascading torrential eyes of hurricanes roved her face as they drank in her innocent aura. In the slowly fading light he seemed a dark angel. Her dark angel. *NO! No!* Shrieks her mind. *He's the enemy* was he her enemy? Truly, did he really want to hurt her? *Yes! Yes!* the harsh voice whispered, cutting through the mist that wafted through her mind. *He'll hurt you! He'll KILL you!* Unsure of who to believe she sought refuge in the slowly fading light. The sun dips in the brilliant blue, painting a light red across the horizon, clouded by thousands of green leaves mottled by branches of light and deep browns. Gently rays of gold pass through the patchwork of deep emerald leaves, caressing the figures below them. Warming them. The clouds are the softest and fluffiest she'd seen. He was there. 'Kitten.' Whispering on the winds that tumbled gently over her face. Resting on a tiny hill, much like a small ocean swell, back relaxing against soft springy grass. Laughing as the clouds go by. 'Pretty as a picture.' 'You like think so?' Her head tilted inquisitively. Big blue eyes widening. Brown hair flopping to one side, bouncing up and down in its trademark ponytail. Innocence threaded throughout her creamy skin. Frost touched, rose colored lips parted slightly. He reached out, a single finger trailing her smooth skin. A soft blush stroked her cheeks. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling beneath humorous silver brows. Gazing at her, murmuring. 'Definitely.' 'It like is beautiful.' With a sigh almost inaudible, eyes fixed upon the sky, and a teensy giggle, 'I wish it was like this beautiful every day.' 'I think you're this beautiful every day.' Brilliant rose red erupted against her lightly tanned skin. 'Pietro!' She shrieked, rolling away. 'How...could you like say...that?' Rubbing a piece of grass between his thumb and forefinger, a wistful smile on his face. 'It's true Kitten.' 'You're just trying to like sweet talk me!' 'Is that what you think?' he laughed softly, 'That I'm trying to seduce you Kitten?' The caressing tone he gave the word "kitten", sent shivers through her. Like she belonged to him alone. Fingers trembling she clutched her burning face. 'No! I like should go.' 'Just one moment.' Kitty turned, eyes blinded for a moment by brilliant white light. He lowered the camera and grinning as she hurriedly rose to her knees. 'One more thing.' He leaned forward. One hand slipping around the back of her neck and pulling her mouth to his. Lips meeting, swept away in a taste of wild Arabian deserts. Then it was over as soon as it began. Numbly Kitty stumbled away in a daze, Pietro's smile fixed on his lips.  
  
On opposite ends of the city two young people were jerked awake. Bodies soaked in sweat and faces drenched in tears. The girl, eyes always the hard icy blue reverts to the innocent baby blue, caught in a frightened trance. She clutches her knees to her face, like the tiny child that hides from the terrible nightmare. Large drops trickle down her face. The man, angelic seductive face twisted in pain, bare chest gleams in the drifting moonlight. Strikes the already dented windowsill until his knuckles are raw and bloody. The pain left unnoticed he grabs the closest object. Hurling it against the nearest wall, an unnatural dark animal keening rises from his throat. The object leaves long cracks that crumble in the plaster, a crater like those left by the nuclear weapons. Haunting memories shaken awake by troublesome memories, rise like the biting fish to the wriggling worm. Wiping their faces they stand wandering to the window. To stare upon the moon that covers them both in it's watchful sight.  
  
~~~~~~~  
On the floor below, one room over, two frightened roommates clung to one another for support. Their room could barely be called a "room". More rightly known as the Pigsty, it was cluttered with old magazines, unwashed clothes, and two cots covered with the clinging stench of overripe garbage. A long rope hung over their heads, from which hung the drying laundry. Only one or two shirts and pants could be seen drying.(the rest were on the floor) Even the walls carried big dirty stains. The reminded anyone and everyone who came into the room of puke. The smell alone could induce a barf fest. Large swarms of every species of fly hung like a drifting misty storm cloud over their heads. Still the two inhabitants called this mud hole home. And right now they were terrified.   
  
"Yo, Blob. What do you thinks wrong with Speedy." Toad whispered, his hands clutch at the edges of his cot. In the pale light he appears as a ghost, hair and face covered by the white dust shaken from the plaster. Again the dust covers him as the ceiling shakes, again, and again, until long pointed pieces begin dropping from the cracks in the plaster. "Do you think we should tell 'im ta shut up, yo?"   
  
Blob shakes his head, "I don't think so. I wouldn't want to be up there right now." The floor rumbles as he shifts in the bed, covering his head with a pillow. Shaking as the enraged roars begin again. "He sounds awful mad." Toad clung, bed sheets wrapped around him. They seemed to hugging him for support. Toad's hair was sprawled around his big yellow eyes. Chestnut curls standing out against bleached skin.  
  
"Well, aren't you two just so observant." The door banged open and a voice dripping with sarcasm filled the room. As their leader Avalanche stood before them. Once, years ago he'd been known as Lance Alvers. He no longer resembled that boy. He'd grown over the years, large shoulders revealed a barrel chest, well defined abs complementing a rather thin waist. Large hands extended from long arms. He was tall, reaching six foot five, soft hair of dark brown like the mud struck by golden sunlight cascaded down to his shoulders. Little curlicues stuck out innocently from his mop. Revealing a strong jaw and thin lips. He would have been handsome, but for his eyes, hardened from the passage of time and experience. They were dark and brooding, sparking sinisterly in the shadowy light. Crafty. And his expression always seemed curled into a cruel and condescending sneer. His expression did not echo the boy that had been, only in the past had his eyes, those dark cocky eyes, predicted the man to come. There was not even an echo of Lance Alvers in Avalanche, he refused to remember the boy, and thus he'd sacrificed his soul. And now he was unredeemable. A man caught in blood lust, and drunk on evil and cruelty. "Why don't one of you cowards go shut him up!" He snarled angrily, pointing towards the stained and crater filled door. "So I can get some sleep." The two shivering masses of mutants did not move. Toad piped up. "Yo, Speedy'd kill us. Why don't you go."  
  
Avalanche moved swiftly, hoisting Toad from his refuge by the collar, he delivered five quick blows to Toad's stomach. Toad sucked in his breath, doubling over as Avalanche dropped him, clutching his chest. "Never talk back to me!" He growled, his face hovering in front of Toad's. "You lackeys are lucky I even keep you around."  
  
"'Cause no one else'll take your abuse." Blob muttered. His large finger swirling the sheets.  
  
"What was that Blob?" Avalanche snapped.  
  
"Nothin'."  
  
"Good! Keep it that way." He growled. "Get going Toad."   
  
Toad headed out muttering something about tyrants and unfairness, he received a sharp kick from Avalanche. Clutching his rump, he hopped up the stairs. Wiping the blood as it dripped from his nose. _________ Sorry Avalanche fans, I figured this was how Avalanche would turn out if there was no one to check him. Flame me if you want, I personally am not going to change him. Until next time...Bye! 


	6. Chapter Five

Hey everyone, sorry this took so long. Please review this! Please! I really do like reviews and it will make my story longer and probably give it more life. Perhaps, even more incentive to write and finish this story. So please review. Flame me if you have to, but review. Again= aga'ahn Against=aga'ahnst Stained=sta'ahned Feel=feahl Hidden=Hahdden See=seah Must=mahst Going=goahn' You'd=Yah'd Never=nevah Moonlight=moonlaht Set=saht  
  
Chapter Five: Reach for Your Past  
  
Standing in the empty streets, staring at as sky filled with drifting black clouds, only the silvered orb of the moon was visible. Staring down like the accusing eye of the storm. Eyes roved the sky. 'Ah wish, just once, that Ah could see them stars aga'ahn.' A hand reaches out, and ungloved fingers, white as the rays of the moon, clutch the orb. Once again it was hidden in the restless black clouds. "Aga'ahnst a sky always sta'ahned black by them damned clouds, aht's rare tah see thah moon. Or feahl aht's cool caress. Thah stars are always hahdden. Damn humanahty!" She whispered. The Wars had stained the sky. Dark clouds always seemed to wrap themselves around the city. They drove her insande. 'Tah destroy somethin' so innocent and gentle.' Moonlight had always been her companion, the Wars had stolen it from her, and she wanted it back. "Ah wish Ah could feahl thaht way aga'ahn." Stretching the ungloved hand, and spreading her fingers wide, she watches as the stormy shadows of the clouds unwittingly spread like the arms of a starfish to reveal the pale glowing moon. A small smile touches her lips. A soft golden light shines from her hand, echoed in the clouds above. Little glowing particles drift around her trembling form, all concentration focused as a spear point aimed towards it's target. 'Ah wish thah prof could seah me now.' Gently she pushed the clouds farther apart until they revealed a black sky sprinkled with tiny silver dots, glowing with their own internal fire. A silver symphony humming in her brain, in twining her in its trickling of silver and golden notes. Spreading her arms and loosing her breath, allowing herself to become a part of the celestial song. Ty's eyes snapped open, caught in a sensation that was to her mind and soul, as an orgasm is to the flesh. Golden light shining out from her eyes, and opening her mouth in soundless scream.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Ty awoke, blood pouring like sweat from her temples, seeping from her skin. Her healing factor was already at work. Swiftly the long wounds breaking her skin closed. She watched the rapid healing in wonder, it always seemed to her as if time sped up, and she was gifted with watching it's miraculous workings. Every tissue neatly knitted back together, muscles woven into place, stronger than ever. Harshly she curled her fingers, digging her nails into the fresh tissue. Little crimson drops dribbled over her fingernails, and through the cracks between her fingers. How many times? How many times had that dream woken her? Barely able to remember if it was real or imagined, she plunged her face into her hands. Hot tears, thick like blood, gushing from her eyes. 'Ah mahst be goahn' insane.' Rocking back and forth on her bed, as the springs of the mattress gave her several harsh kicks, she moaned softly. Glancing sideways to check on Kat, she found her gone from the cot.   
  
Sliding to her feet, her long, cotton, sleep pants muttering in a disgruntled fashion. She swept towards the window. Staring up and smiling at the large yellow moon, which hovered over the city. "Yah'd nevah betray me. Would yah?" She asked to the moon. "Moonlaht is so soft an' gentahl. Not lahk thah harshness of sunlaht. Sunlaht always seahms tah judge yah. Moonlaht...moonlaht comforts yah an' hahds yer secrets." Sighing, she leaned out the windowsill. It shoved itself into her stomach, forcing her to gasp desperately for breath. She sighed, the second time, and watching the stars fall across the black sky, she muttered. "Yeah. An angel." He'd said that, so long ago. Shaking her head vigorously, her dark hair splaying over her pale cheeks. Running her fingers over the grooves in the wood and chewing on her lower lip, she whispered. "A dark angel, more lahk."  
  
Blood always blood, she'd spilled so much. 'Ah jahst wish...' That she hadn't been forced to. That she'd never, never become a killer. 'Ah was forced tah kill!' But was that really it? Was that really why? The real reason? "They programmed me!" But...was it them, or her. When she'd slashed into those bikers, tearing apart their bowels. Sending an inundation of blood splashing through the streets. There had been a sense of satisfaction, an inkling of pleasure, sick as that was; a part of her...enjoyed it. 'NO!' She snarled. 'Ah dahdn't! Ah couldn't!' A dark angel. Every fight since Canada, the same pleasure had entered her system. In her dreams a hunger gnawed. Driving her. 'Ah'm not lahk that!'   
  
Below, dark clouds of steam billowed up from the sewers, bringing with them the sharp scent of old urine mixed with a stale stinging smell of mildew and mold. A few cars bounced by, sending up a roaring hiss. The echoes of wind, catching the steam, spread up until it dumped the steam to its death below. The escaping mist clouds hunkered down on the corners of the sidewalk. Shivering and whimpering. "Caught an' saht free, scattered jahst lahk us."   
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Pietro was staying in an old room in the Black Avalanche's place of business. It was on the top most floor a ramshackle old town house. Paint curled off of the sideboards of the wall. "Yo! Pietro man!" Toad pounded on the door. The knock echoed hollowly through the empty soundless hall. "Uh, Pietro?" He said. All sound in the room vanished with the noise of his crackly and whiney voice. "Pietro." He said a bit louder. The room remained ghostly quiet. "Yo! Pietro!" Banging in the door until his knuckles bled, and the skin chafed, Toad kept yelling. Finally the door creaked open.  
  
"What do you want?" Pietro growled, his voice low and rough as if from screaming. Toad could barely see him in the dim light, partially hidden from behind the door. Peaking past him, Toad evaluated the damage, the room was a mess, the small desk Avalanche used for writing was overturned, the dresser drawers were partially pulled out, clothes hanging from them, newspapers were spread out over the floor amid the clutter of clothes and pictures, black lines highlighted. The old spring less mattress was pulled off the bed frame to resemble a child hanging upside down. Old color photos were spread out, all containing the same girl, a girl Toad knew of. She was barely recognizable to him, when she was looking so innocent in those pictures.   
  
'She normally fires rounds of bullets at us on a daily basis.' He sighed internally, not yet aware of Pietro's scrutiny. 'The days when all she did was kick us or phase through us were heaven compared to now.' He groaned as the memories subsided. 'Blob's received more than one shot in the rear.' He chuckled softly.  
  
Pietro's sharp voice jerked Toad, like a fish on a hook, back into reality. "Well?" He said impatiently.  
  
Toad gulped, and tried to make casual conversation. "Pietro-man, it looks like a nuke busted your room." Pietro glowered at him, eyes boring holes through Toad's skull. Toad tittered; his voice turning high pitched and took on a girlish tone, a little laugh escaping him. Nervously he began backing away. There was something about Pietro, now, that he couldn't place. It made him uneasy. In the pub Pietro looked like a man possessed by memories of the past, he seemed even crazier now. 'He doesn't care about us. We're scum to him. A means to an end.' "Well man," He said, noticing the revolver Pietro was casually twirling in his hand. "Boss says..."  
  
A gruff laugh echoed through the hall. "So...so, you call him boss now. Lance, he's your boss?" Pietro smiled, the lines time had etched into his face deepened and he appeared in joking mood, until Toad met his eyes. Those stormy eyes were hard, holding no mirth, like pieces of steel.   
  
"Yeah, yo! Yeah, we do." Toad said defiantly, trying desperately to quell the lump rising in his throat. "You have a problem with that yo?"  
  
Pietro smiled again. "No, actually, none at all. But tell me Toad, " He said as he examined his black handgun. His stormy eyes tracing every fine detail, he seemed so intent, and distant. "Who are you more afraid of?" Raising his gun and pointing the barrel directly between Toad's eyes, 'Scum.' In a voice calmer than a windless lake, he said. "Lance or me?"   
  
"Right now yo," Toad's voice shook and cracked, staring down the barrel of the gun, he thought. 'He's cracked.' Then, Toad could understand Pietro, even being a Colony man; Pietro understood what it took to get what you needed on earth. Most didn't. Even if it meant distrusting old friends. "It's definitely gotta be you." Toad could feel his heart bursting in his chest, and sweat dribbled down his chin. 'There's no way I'd get away, he's too fast. He'd shoot me before I could move.  
  
Whining in a high pitch squeal, the door swung open to allow Toad entry. He motioned with his gun. "Get in here Toad." He growled. "There something I need to discuss with you."  
  
"About Kat Pryde?" Toad asked slowly. ~~~~~~~~  
  
A tall man, his hair light brown, over his eyes are sunglasses, and dressed in a light tan jacket, black shirt and pants. His hair is ruffled, as if it has been swept up by the wind. About his face a grimly determined expression hangs like a cloud of mist. "Ready to go?" Scott turned to Logan, hoisting his bag on his shoulder. Scott nodded as Logan gave him a thumbs up. Scott held out the two boarding passes for inspection.   
  
Taking them, as she runs them through the machine the woman asks. "So why are you two heading for Earth?" She gazes at them inquisitively, a perplexed expression crossing her face. "It's not a very good vacation spot."   
  
Scott coughs slightly, "Unfinished business."   
  
Logan groaned and pushed him along, after retrieving their passes. "No answering questions. You don't know who she, or anyone else is working for." He growled at Scott as they made their way to the shuttle. Giving him a hard punch in the arm. "You may have grown, but you're still that na•ve kid, Scott. You think everyone is nice just because we're still on the colonies. I have news Scott, that nice woman is an insider working for the Crime lord Usuba."  
  
Scott smiled calmly. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost you're touch Logan."  
  
"You learn, Scott. You may have got a lot of info. But your street smarts have dulled, bub." Scott laughed, his shades flashing sharply. 'I know more than you think Logan.'  
  
Please review! Thanx! 


	7. Chapter Six

Thank you to all those who've reviewed! Thanks especially to Rageful Jewel, Rob, and Rogue Worrior Spirit! Rageful Jewel thank you for your comments, I hope you make more! Rob thanks for sticking with me! And Rogue Warrior Spirit, I really enjoyed your comments! If you folks have any suggestions or questions, please put them into your reviews. Or email me @ neptr4@earthlink.net. Please read and review. Enjoy!  
  
Ty: Y'all'd better enjoy!  
  
(She unsheathes her claws and shakes them menacingly)  
  
Chapter Six: Stripes and One Eye  
  
Below, the earth was stained a dusty gray. Large craters dotted the blackened fields where poor subsistence farmers tried to scrape out a living. The gigantic generators dotting the edges humming like an out of tune harmonica. The vibrations echoing through unsteady earth. In a few lucky fields tiny green stalks, barely an inch high, dotted the landscape. And in his vision the land seemed stained a bloody red.  
  
Scott sank back. Logan's snores were loudly audible and shook the air around him. 'He's familiar with Earth. He's seen the aftermath.' Glancing back down at the crimson horizon, high peaks of grayed red stood like spears sticking out of the sky, a few were small plateaus, but most seemed shaved at a slant. Tiny dulled lights gleamed, tiny stars in darkness, they only seemed to darken as the plane approached. 'How did they survive?' Scott wondered as his eyes digested the scarred ground, brushing back his smooth auburn hair. How had his homeland become this? Scott was never one to hide from the truth. If he wasn't, then why hadn't he ever tuned in to all those documentaries about the hellhole the left behind lived in? Yes.   
  
Five Hours Earlier  
  
Logan snorted. "You think you'll be meeting the same Rogue." Glancing up, Scott met his dark eyes, a perplexed expression hidden beneath his shades. Logan quirked a bushy brow, his rugged features pulled into a condescending smile, and he motioned toward the touchpad. "Her." There a tiny Goth, her skin a pale white, with mousy muddy hair leaned in a lonely position against the ruined wall. Her visage was a disappointed frown, as her purple painted lips formed a small smile. "You think she'll be the same, one eye."  
  
"I don't, I know she'll be different. I know she's changed." He argued defensively. Jerking his touchpad away from Logan, his eyes ran over the girl in the photo, again and again. Rubbing his thumb in circles over the black plastic cover. "I know."  
  
Logan barked, his voice harsh and bitter. "She'll have changed. Changed to an extent, you cannot imagine." Jerking his thumb into his chest in a self-righteous gesture, Logan growled. "I've seen their faces. You can't imagine, bub! The pain in their eyes. The despair. It's deadening bub."   
  
"I've seen the pictures." Scott muttered. "I work for UNCA."  
  
Logan laughed. "The pictures! The pictures don't cover it." The Wolverine, sighed, collapsing back into his shuttle seat. "Those people live in a hellhole, they despise everything about Colony citizens. They hate us."  
  
Shaking his head vigorously, sending his short auburn hair flying, Scott protested. "I'm sure that Rogue and Kitty won't."  
  
"Now that is the biggest load of bull, I've ever heard." Logan tipped his forward and drifted into oblivion.  
  
Back in Reality-  
  
Mumbling to himself as darkness overtook him, Scott said. "I'm sure they won't hate us." If only he knew the truth.  
  
Around the City That Never Sleeps, dark clouds began billowing like sails in a typhoon. Dark streaks of lightning bit into the high towers and thunder grumbled as it passed overhead. Long lines of rain began streaming down into the streets. Tears splattering onto the ground in tiny rings as the rain tapped on the buildings, echoing. Just echoing through the empty streets.  
  
Hope y'all enjoyed. Plz review. 


	8. Chapter Seven

Hey y'all, I'm kinda dry.  
  
Kat: She's like totally dry.  
  
(Ty elbows her sharply)  
  
Anyway, if the next couple of chapters seem, I don't know, a little off base and weird. Or off the plot line, forgive me okay. I'm struggling for inspiration.  
  
Kat: Yeah, we're like not enough.  
  
Ty: Shut up.  
  
Trunksblue, thank you for all your reviews. They really do mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Plz read and review.  
  
Kat: Review!  
  
Ty: Y'all'd better!  
  
Hotwire=hotwahre  
  
Chapter Seven-The Key  
  
"Where could aht beh?" Ty mumbled, she'd already searched this section of the room five times! Shaking out a large gray blanket, threadbare as it was, it served as her cot's comforter(along with her sheets). The material, full of a decades dust, carried the moldy stench of overripe oranges. Forcing Ty to shake it one handed, while using the other to pin her nose shut. As she shook it, the dust sprayed out like a fountain, stinging her eyes and choking her nose, as she hacked and coughed. She swore loudly, saying the same ones over in many different tongues, her Southern accent thickening to something unintelligible as her frustration increased. "Dammit! Where ahs aht?" Glancing back down at the note.  
  
The note had been written on a thin slip of crumbling old paper. The edges were stained a nasty yellow, the color of urine. And Ty held it delicately by the center, for the sake of cleanliness. Long creases hugged the edges tightly as if afraid of falling off. Small cracks spread like a spiders web throughout the area. In messy handwriting, the words scribbled black ink, read.  
  
Meet me at Boomers. 10 o' clock sharp.  
  
Hurriedly dropping her eyes to her watch, she noted the time. Nine o'clock. She had an hour to find it. Ty was a thin woman, and small, though her body was sleek and she held the appearance of a huntress. Her form was gaunt from years of scavenging and dark shadows hung beneath cold and worried eyes. It was important that she be prompt. In the late-silvered light of the moon, her skin was abnormally pale, practically translucent, giving her the appearance of an avenging ghost. And was highlighted by her ever-faithful gothic makeup: black mascara, purple lipstick and eye shadow. The makeup; forcing her skin to an even lighter shade of white, didn't complement her complexion. Her face had hardened long ago, but was creaseless, with the exception of a few tightened lines around her eyes. Her light grayish purple eyes were decades more ancient than the 20-year-old face. Her visage was thin and at the moment taken the form of a frustrated scowl, around it mousy brown hair clung barely reaching past her chin. Recently she'd taken on a new hairstyle. Near her face, the brown hair was long, reaching halfway down her neck, then slowly it receded backwards until it clung to the base of her scalp. However what caught the eye most about this woman was her bangs of the most vibrant white. "Dahmn!" She snarled again.  
  
With an angry roar, she overturned her small desk and hurriedly began digging through the contents. "Ah need thaht key!" Tossing aside dust frosted pencils, pens, and a few bottles of Kat's bubblegum blue nail polish, along with a few notepads, and even an old key or two. Why had she been so stupid? Wasn't it enough that she normally listened to Kat's advice? Did Kat have to be right every time?  
  
'Put that away or you'll lose it!'  
  
'Sure sugah, 'tevah yah say.' Ty said putting down her silver key.  
  
'Like somewhere you'll find it later.'  
  
'Ah did Kat!'  
  
'You'll like be sorry later.'  
  
'Ah doubt thaht.'  
  
And now, when she needed to leave, Kat was proven right yet again. "Great, just great." Tossing up her hands, and ran the left through her hair, over and over, twirling short back hairs around a black-gloved index finger. "Argh!" She smashed her fist into the wall. It was all her fault, yet again! Everything was her fault. She'd searched the cupboards, the beds, the chest of drawers, and decimated the living room. She'd even searched all her pants and jackets pockets. And come up with nothing, zero, zilch, nada! "Ah'm Ah beahn' punished?" She wondered to herself as the heavy silence placed itself in tons on her shoulders. "Nah, aht's gotta beh somewhere."  
  
Of course, Kat had to go out. Leave without so much as a note! Or a time when she'd be back. Typical Kat. Not that this was Kat's fault, Ty reminded herself, it was hers. *Still*, an annoying voice muttered from the back of her head. *Aht would beh nice ta have some help.* She checked her watch again. 9:30. She needed to leave in ten minutes. Where was the key to that damn bike! Kat had told her, she'd told her, time and time again. If she were here, she'd be gloating. 'Well, she's not and she ain't.' Ty replied to herself coolly.   
  
Kat had been acting like the ever-annoying mother, when she'd told her. 'Put in a place where you can find it.'   
  
But had Ty listened? "No!" Ty growled, slamming her fist back into the wall. And why hadn't she listened? "Because Ah'm stupahd!" Ty snatched up a small wooden box from the floor. Irene had given it to her long ago. The only item from Ty's past that she tolerated. There'd been a message inside, but Ty had thrown it away when she abandoned Rogue. Irene had sent it to the mansion a few days before the war, before she... Coughing slightly, Ty rubbed her eyes. They were suddenly very itchy and returned to the examination of the box. The colors of yellow and blue had dulled with the passage of time, and the pattern of leaves that wove around the face had almost completely vanished. When it had been new, the varnish had shone like new honey, the autumn leaves were brilliant crimsons and browns, and the yellow was the color of melted butter. But now it was a shadow, a tiny reminder of what it once was. Like Ty. Putting it down she turned to look elsewhere, the likelihood of her finding the key there was minimal if impossible. Checking her watch again. She screamed, only five minutes left to go. "Chingada." Ty muttered angrily. 'Ah could always hotwahre mah bike.' She reminded herself, a skill left over from the testing days. Yanking open the drawer of her three-legged nightstand. It was ancient and rickety, the varnish scarred and ruined. The nightstand tipped and the lamp on it toppled to the floor with a loud crash. Glass spread everywhere. "Merde!" She growled.   
  
'Nah Ty,' She told herself, 'shut up Ty. Thahnk, damn you, think! Where would ah stupahd idiot leave thah key.' Ty checked her watch. Groaning she sank onto the bed. Two minutes. Rubbing her hands over her pale face and as her index finger twirled her back hairs, she felt something hard on her bed. Placing her hand down she felt it, hard and solid. Key shaped. She pulled it out, it was only her spare house key. Ty shoved her hands into her hips. "Bloody hell!" She swore. Wait, there was something hard in the back pocket of her leather capris. Wait! She felt around in her back pocket, and discovered something cool to her touch. The key? It certainly felt metallic. Jerking it from her back pocket, and holding it up in the light, she grinned(which was extraordinarily rare). Yes! Looking at her watch again, she moaned. "No! Ah'm late!" She ran out the door, slamming it loudly behind her.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ten minutes later, Scott and Logan walked into the abandoned building. A young woman with mousy brown hair and pale skin, dressed in black leather capris, a green spaghetti strap, a leather jacket, and brown knee high boots, rushed past them. Her face was set in an agitated scowl and she mumbled something about clumsy colony men as she passed them. Moving as a blur, Scott was unable to ID her as anyone he knew, so he allowed her to go by.   
  
'This is the place?' Scott asked, glancing up disdainfully at the crumbling building. 'I would have thought they'd find somewhere better to live.'  
  
'There is no better place to live. And once w get in there, let me do all the talking One Eye.' Logan growled as he pushed past Scott strode through the wide doorway. 'Oh and if you see anyone suspicious, leave 'em alone, bub.'  
  
'Why shouldn't we question them?'  
  
'Because they'll slice us and dice us. Earth folk are tough, and they ain't easily pushed around kid. They're a different breed.' Logan's worn leathery face, crinkled into a smile. 'I wonder how the half-pint and stripes managed to survive down here.'  
  
'They survived because they're X-men.' Scott proclaimed.  
  
They came to an elevator. Scott his finger poised over the button was ready to push it, when Logan caught his hand. Shaking his head, Logan pointed to the "out of order" sign hanging near the opening. "You may be good at catching criminals kid. But this ain't the colonies. We're takin' the stairs. Evan and Cannonball passed on, boy, and so did Jubilee. She died in Bobby's arms, if you'll remember. No. Half-pint and Stripes must have found a different way to survive."  
  
Scott pondered his words for a minutes, his ego again shaken for the third time on the trip. His pride had taken so many wounds during the Wars, and now Logan was blowing his ego into bitty bits. "They were still X-men." He said softly.  
  
They reached the fourth flight, and began traveling down a long hallway of abandoned rooms. The wallpaper was stained with watermarks and brown stains, the edges curled with age. Several of the doors were slanted open, and a few were falling off their hinges, the rooms inside were pitch black, and not a shred of light fell through the windows. "Yeah, they were, but that ain't the reason they survived." For Scott, it seemed like they traveled for ages through the corridor. He could barely remember how many minutes had gone by or what time it was. His shirt began sticking to his back as the heat rose in the stuffy hall and his breath began to choke him, when Logan said. "We're here."  
  
Scott glanced up at the number 50, the five hanging upside down on the green-painted door. The paint was peeling and in some parts it had worn away completely. "This is it?"  
  
"You expected the penthouse suite?" Logan said drily. He twisted the knob. "It's unlocked." Pushing it open to reveal a decimated two room apartment. Scott's jaw hung completely unhinged, the room had the appearance of the aftermath of a nuclear explosion. Desks were overturned, blankets, clothes, pens, and papers covered the floor. "Someone left in a hurry." Logan muttered as he entered. "Someone was looking for something."  
  
Scott, glancing over his shoulder, asked. "Were they searched Logan?"  
  
"No." He said after sniffing the air. "Only the scents of the inhabitants are here." Slowly and carefully he began to investigate. "They went to Boomers."  
  
"Your nose told you that." Scott asked, curiously walking up behind Logan.  
  
Logan snapped angrily. "Careful kid! I don't really want them knowing we were snooping without permission. My nose didn't tell me where they went." He said calmly. "This did." He held up the nasty slip of paper.  
  
"It's like too late for us not to know." A cool feminine voice said from the doorway. 


	9. Chapter Eight

Hey people, I hope you stay tuned in. Things should be getting a little more interesting. There also may be a few guest appearances by a few of our favorite mutants. (Romy fans stay tuned.) Reminder- No Rietro in this story, well maybe a little ^_-. K! Read and review please.  
  
Chapter Eight-The Dead Cat  
  
"You should like be more careful." A slender panther clothed in sleek black jeans, a purple and black tank, leaned casually against the doorframe. Twirling a black handgun in her right hand, clear blue eyes examining the two men before her. Her beautiful light brown hair hung around her shoulders. Her arms exposed showing long, lean muscles and golden tanned skin. Giving both men the impression of a battle worn Amazon, and Scott shuddered slightly. This couldn't be Kitty. Calmly, she stopped twirling the gun, catching it, she raised the barrel until it pointed right between Scott's eyebrows. "You like better start explaining. Why like are you like here?" She growled, light tones vibrating in her throat, echoing a primordial snarl.  
  
Logan, unfazed by the young woman's demonstration, lazily turned one of the chairs around and took a seat. Watching carefully as her grip on the gun tightened, but never moved from where it was pointed. "We're looking for someone."  
  
Flipping her hair behind one shoulder, a cold smile crossed her lips. "And I should like care why?" Her eyes flicked to Logan, there was nothing quizzical about her expression.  
  
Logan scratched himself behind the ear. Rolling his shoulders and cracking his back he glanced at Scott. The younger man tensed ever so slightly. Gruffly Logan chuckled. Tossing out absently as if it were an afterthought. "We wondered if you were her. But you couldn't be. Sorry for imposing." Confusion flickered in Kat's eyes for a tenth of a second, just long enough for Logan to see. His craggy tough countenance spread into a warm smile. "We'll be on our way now." He stood.  
  
Passing by Kat, who lowering her gun, muttered. "Get out Logan." His smile grew, but he brushed back his shaggy hair with rough fingers. Kat turned away from them. Walking into the room, her back to them, she surveyed the mess. "Hell. Like what a mess."  
  
"Just a question." Logan said turning back. In the flickering light of the hallways his gruff features seemed more imposing than ever. "Won't take more than a moment."  
  
Waspishly Kat snapped. "What!" Laying the gun on among the cluttered magazines of the table. An icy blue gaze frosted with hate drove itself, like icicles into the two men. "Like what now?"  
  
Logan smiled, laying a rough hand against the peeling water stained wallpaper, bumpy beneath his fingers. He pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lighting it silently, he breathed in the smoke. Watching the disgust spread across Kat's face, he knew. The same look, the one she'd used at the mansion. This panther was Kitty.  
  
"Eww! Logan that's like so disgusting." Kitty said, disgust spreading across her countenance, as Logan lit his cigar. "Don't you know that's like going to kill you."  
  
Logan chuckled, "It'd kill you sprout." He puffed, inhaling the smoke, allowing it to slide into his lungs and out again. "Not me." His gruff slightly hoarse voice reflected quietly. 'It's bad for the kids.'  
  
Kitty shook her head, the spunky ponytail twisting vigorously in the air. "It's like a disgusting habit. And you shouldn't do it in the mansion." She squeezed her nose shut, and a high nasally voice bubbled. "I don't like understand, how you like stand the smell. It's like sooooo gross!" She cocked her head to one side, eyes widening slightly. Quiet confusion spreading over her visage. "And we'll like all DIE from second hand smoke!" She wrinkled her nose, confusion gone, appearing affronted.  
  
"It's not so bad sprout."  
  
"YES it is!" She shouted. "It like sooo is!"  
  
This was Kitty, little spunky Kitty. He was sure. 'You've grown Kitty.' Shaking his head. 'Where's the spunky little bubbly valley girl gone?' He'd known she'd changed, but a part of him hadn't expected it. Instead of opening his arms and wrapping her in a big bear hug, he asked. "Your name is Kat Pryde?"  
  
"What of it?" She snarled, 'What's the point of this! Hell! Go away!' Her thoughts screamed, wishing she was a telepath. Kitty boiled beneath a somewhat cool exterior. Nearly at her exploding point, her mind lunged at its chains. 'How did you like find us! Get away! I HATE YOU!' A cool voice filled her mind. 'I want to kill you.'  
  
He scratched behind his ear. "You wouldn't be related to a Kitty Pryde would you?" His voice was calm, and he waited for her answer. Regarding each reaction as a sign.  
  
Blanching at the name, she took several steps backwards. As if she'd been struck with a hammer. "No, she's dead. Like she died in the Wars." Kat answered. "A long time ago. I like knew her. Found the body. Somewhere up north." She shrugged aimlessly.  
  
Logan nodded thoughtfully. "That's good to know. Thank you." He tossed her a twenty cubit coin. A fortune for earthfolk. "For your time."  
  
Kat stared at the coin. Disgustedly she hurled it back. "I don't want your damn money!" Slamming the door behind her. 


	10. Chapter Nine

Sorry it's been soooo long. Thanks for all your review and your patience! I know I'm trying. I hope you all enjoy this chapter like you've enjoyed the others. The Acolytes should be making an appearance someday soon.  
  
Chapter Nine- Understanding  
  
"Why'd you do that!" Scott demanded as they walked down the darkened hall. Glancing around the hallway. At the peeling flowery blue wallpaper, the chipped white doors, and the rusty hinges of the dusty doors. At the bronze numbers, long since lost their sheen. At the creaking floorboards beneath his feet, there were no answers here. All the answers lay in numero cinqont: number fifty. Not in this excuse for a building. "That was Kitty!"  
  
"I know." Logan answered calmly. He strode away down the hall, floorboards creaking beneath his feet. 'I know.' Running his fingers tiredly through shaggy black hair, greasy to his touch. And Scott noticed the tired lines on Logan's face. For the first time. "I know! But we can't make her tell us about her past. About the five years of hell she's endured. She and Rogue." He paused, a strained expression shadowing his normally gruff lines. Dark eyes fixed ahead. 'Why she hates us.' "You must have noticed."  
  
"Of course I did Logan!" Waspishly, Scott ran his fingers through dark brown hair. "I just don't know." He sighed. 'Is Rogue that bitter, that full of hatred.' Kitty's piercing blue eyes, burning holes through his own. Like she could see into his very soul. Shuddering slightly, Scott pulled his black jacket closer. 'I hope not.' But then Rogue was never half as forgiving. Letting her hatred devouring her. After all, she'd been partly responsible for her mother's death. Mystique.Apocalypse. 'Apocalypse.' Was he involved? Scott glanced at Logan.  
  
Logan snorted. "Why? That should be fairly obvious." Scott frowned, his red gaze seeking solace in the peeling walls and faded flowery paper. "She's been to hell and back." He paused, "One eye, did you make out the markings on her arms?" His gruff tone shifting slightly, like a lion feeling the earth beneath his paws. "Just below the shoulder."  
  
"Yeah.yeah they looked like tiny dots."  
  
Logan sighed, glancing back at the closed door. 'Thought so.' Fingering the tiny scars on his own shoulder, two tiny round circles. 'Area 49.' He thought. 'Weapon X.' Suppressing a small shudder traveling up his spine, he mumbled. "Canada."  
  
"What?" Scott asked, beneath his shades eyes widening. "Canada?" 'Canada, Logan was experimented on in Canada.' Logan stood stock still, his entire body tensed as if he were petrified. A low growl rumbled from his throat. Claws unsheathed, with a roar he spun, ramming his fist into the wooden wall, and with a slow drawn out pleasure, he jerked his arm down. 'This can't be possible.'  
"They were in Canada!" Logan roared, eyes snapping up. "Bloody hell boy! Do you know what this means!"  
  
"Your not alone?" Scott asked sheepishly. Shrugging his shoulders he shivered beneath Logan's contempt filled gaze. Stiffening his back slightly, he said. "According to Colony records many of the refugees traveled to Canada after the Wars. It was a new American West. Thousands traveled." Flicking out his touch pad, he began filing through the logs.  
  
Logan growled. "Don't be stupid boy!" Shaking his shaggy black mane, he became submersed in his own thoughts. 'Those two circular dots on her shoulder.they're identical to mine.Canada...it all fits. A government funded program? No! Private. But who? They must have been kidnapped, during the Wars. Damn! Five, ten years of torture. Experiments.poor Kitty.no wonder she said she was dead.'  
  
"Yes.I knew her. But she's like been long dead."  
  
'Dead. That part of her must have died.'  
  
"Logan? What are we going to do?" Scott asked.  
  
Logan laughed, his voice coarse, gruff, and harsh. "We're going to have a chat with dear Kat Pryde."  
  
Then the ground beneath their feet began to shake and rock. Out of the door of room number fifty burst Kat. Carrying a long lean sniper gun on her shoulder, and muttering a long string of curse words, she brushed past them. She paused after she passed them, hiding her confusion behind a brittle mask. 'Weren't they like long gone?' She thought to herself.  
  
"Care for a little help." Logan asked. "Like old times?"  
  
Kat bit her lip. She needed it. She knew her limits. 'I can't like manage Lance's gang all on my own.' Much as she hated to admit it. 'There are too many.' But did she want things to be like old times? She shuddered, her insides quivering, and her mind screaming NO at the thought. She could manage alone. She was trained to do things alone. She could do it. Then the memories flooded her.Asteroid M.Lance.Toad.Blob.Magneto.Pietro...the days of Apocalypse.the Wars.the faces haunting her dreams.the green light.the white suits.the serum.the needles.bubbling water.black lines. "No!" She screamed, clawing at her temples. "No! No, no, no, like get out of my head." Falling to the floor, writhing. She could feel them getting closer.the dead. "Get away from me." She could feel Logan's cool fingers pressing on her shoulder. Hear him shouting.  
  
"Scott! You know what to do!" Then there was darkness.and bright green light. 


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Gambling with Fate  
  
Ty stood. Her eyes traversing the road ahead coolly, it was dark there. A comfortable unyielding darkness. The noise beating from Boomers was almost unbearable, a constant pounding in her ears and in her brain. A strange mix of techno, hip-hop, and rap. A brilliant array of lights shot out through the door dazzling her eyes. She sighed, rubbing her temples. Why was she doing this? Why was she here? 'Because yah need tah. Because yah want tah see him again.' Didn't she? 'Make a gamble.' Her mind whispered softly, 'Take a chance.' How long had it been? She laughed throatily, since she took any chances? "It's been a long tahme sugah." She whispered quietly to herself. Flicking her fingers, she sighed. 'Ah'm ready tah move on.' She walked into Boomers.  
  
As the doors clicked, smells of dirt, sex, sweat, and booze assaulted her nose. Ty winced, partially blinded by the neon lights. An older man, his hair black as night, face pouched and seemed, with bright intelligent black eyes, thinning brown hair, a hanging belly, and a long scar cutting up from his jaw, lay an arm across her shoulders. "Hey darlin'." He mumbled, breathing across her face. Stale beer and brandy clogged Ty's nose. "Don't see you round these here parts."  
  
"Hon, Ah'm way outta yer league." Ty snapped, pale purple eyes sparking violently. Shrugging off his arm, she strode away. Well, tried to.  
  
The man laughed. "Ya got spunk darlin'. I like that in a woman." Catching her by the shoulders, he spun her around, jerking her towards him. Ramming her hips into his. "What ya say to a dance?"  
  
Ty grimaced, sensing his arousal. "Not in this lafetahme sugah." She pulled away, not wanting to hurt him. Leaning in close to his ear, she whispered. "Ah hunt biggah game." Curling her upper lip, disgustedly she pushed against his flabby chest.  
  
Still laughing, the man held her close. "What hun, not big enough for ya?" His fingers dung into her jacket. The dusty sweaty scent of him plugged her nose. It was a rancid stench. Shoving him harshly away from her, 'hsst' her claws extended.  
  
"Now, now chere. Why is it, whenever Gambit see you, you got them silver pointers out." A melodious Cajun voice laughed from behind her. Merry as always.  
  
Ty spun, eyes appraising. The demon-eyed mutant smiled benignly, his dark red hair spiking up, face still ruggedly handsome, dressed as he had in his days as an Acolyte. His broad chest, lean legs and arms, caught many a woman's attention. Long tan trench swirling around his feet, coolly shuffling his trademark deck of cards. "Gambit." Ty nodded. Withdrawing her claws, she smirked at the angry man.  
  
Gambit stepped between Ty and the other man. "You better be leaving Gambit's chere alone." He said, pulling a joker from his deck. Flicking it back and forth between his fingers, a wide smile fixed on his face. "Unless, you want to know what happened to the last man." His smile widened. "Who harassed Gambit's girl."  
  
"Ah don' need yah protection." Ty growled beneath her breath. "Ah can handle mahself Gambit."  
  
The other man wasn't scaring. "She ain't yer property." He snapped. "Far as I see it, she's fair game." He slapped his stomach it jiggled up and down like a boy on a pogo stick. Ty grimaced.  
  
"Have it your way. Gambit don't care." Gambit tossed the card to the other man.  
  
He dropped it just as the card exploded in his face. "Fine! Have yer darlin'!" The man snarled, turning briskly and waddling away. "But darlin'." He called over his shoulder. "If you ever be lookin' fer a good time, you know where to find it." He made the motion of shooting a gun. "I'll be keepin' an eye out fer ya." With a jovial laugh, he disappeared into the crowd.  
  
"Sure." Ty muttered.  
  
Gambit loomed over her, imposing and warm. To Ty he felt safe, warm, and inviting. What she could never find in Mr. Military. Though Scott had made her feel very safe. Gambit...he was just damn sexy. But then he was an Acolyte. "Well now chere, look what Gambit had to pull you out of." Okay, maybe not that safe.  
  
'Try egotistical jerk! Who tha hell does he thahnk he ahs!' Ty snarled. "Ah could've handled mahself!" She fumed. "Ah don' need yah steppin' in!"  
  
Gambit shrugged, he never took her outbursts seriously. "It's been a long time Chere. Let Gambit buy ya a drink." 


	12. Chapter Eleven

THANK YOU SOOO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I hope this chapter equals the others. Bear with me, we're going to delve deeper into the Romy aspect, but don't forget Scott!  
  
Chapter Eleven: Demon Eyes, Drinks, and Dreams  
  
Relaxing, Ty heaved a long sigh. Through the whole evening Gambit had been a considerate listener. They'd talked of old times, reminiscing. They'd talked into the night, joking, laughing, and remembering. It'd been a long time since Ty felt so comfortable, so relaxed, and at ease. Slowly her muscles unknotted, and tension in her back washed away as if it were underneath hot water. Taking a long swig of her drink, she turned to him. "Tell Gambit what happened to you, chere." He murmured, ordering another drink. Ty had lost count of hers.  
  
Drowsily, Ty swayed in her seat. Drifting into dark memories. "We traveled a long tahme in thaht cramped van. Crowded tahgethah lahke cattle ready for slaughtah. Lotsa thah girls were screamin' an cryin', it was like watchin' colts bein' separated from their mothahs. Aht was all hot, and we wore these silvah metal collahs round our necks. They hummed steadily in a drowsy tune, an' they prohibited us usin' our powers. Ah don' know how long we wahre in there. Ah can still feahl the shackles round mah wrists." She ran her fingers over her gloved wrist. "They wahre heavy. Ah thought Ah'd nevah get out. We nevah stopped, not once durin' thah whole trip. Kat had ta go ta the bathroom real bad." She smiled. "Moaned 'bout it thah entire trip." She drifted into Gambit's red ringed eyes. "Ah was scared, really sared. Thought Ah'd nevah get out. Nevah."  
  
"Chere." Gambit whispered, touching her shoulder. "Chere!" But Ty had drifted into the past.  
  
"We stopped, Ah don' know. Ah don' know how long, how long we'd been there. Aht was cold an' thah air froze mah lungs. They shoved us out. All of us, screamin' an' cryin'. Thah men shoutin' fer us ta shut up, when no one listened, they begahn beatin' us. Thah last thing Ah remembah was the big gray fortress on a black hill surrounded by tall pine trees, before Ah blacked out." Ty shuddered, staring into her drink. Squeezing her eyes shut, willing the memories out, she whispered. "When Ah woke, Ah was strapped ta a cold metal table. Naked. Someone was holdin' my hand, it was cold, lahke hell had frozen over. Stiff, thah hand was so stiff. Mah throat was dry an' scratchy, Ah must 've been screamin'. There wahre docters all round thah room, in their white lab coats, typin' away on their keyboards. A constant click, click, click. Then Ah glanced to the table next ta me...her face." Hands pressed against her temples, mumbling incoherently for several seconds, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. "Oh Gawd! Why! Why didn't Ah stop!"  
  
Reaching out, Gambit squeezed her shoulder. Tenderly, he brushed away a tear. "It wasn't your fault Chere. Gambit understands." He murmured, tearfully Ty allowed herself to be pulled into his warm embrace. "Shh." Gambit whispered. Rubbing the small of her back, rocking her. "It's all right Chere, your safe. Gambit won't let them hurt you."  
  
"Ah couldn't stop." Ty whispered her voice tiny, shaking like a frightened child. "Ah couldn't stop." Turning her wide fearful gray- purple eyes on him, she cried. "Why couldn't Ah stop?" Hot tears dripped from her chin, creating dark spots on Gambit's clean shirt. She breathed softly, trembling.  
  
"Shh. Chere, we've all."  
  
Ty wasn't listening, her breathing quickened and she continued. "She was dead. Ah killed her! Aht was me!"  
  
Gambit's heart skipped a beat, as he gazed down at the girl in his arms. So young, she was. Face smudged by dust and dirt, tears streaking her cheeks, all grown up and wearing sexy clothes. 'But inside an innocent little girl.' Strong and independent. 'All she wants is to be loved. Gambit will love you Chere.' "Rogue." He murmured, voice husky. "Ma petite femme."  
  
Her old name.Ty shuddered, insides churning, and an intense urge to spew swamped her. Hatred swarmed up like a buzzing bee. How dare! Dipping back into her memories, hated voices called to her.  
  
"Rogue!"  
  
"Rogue!"  
  
"There you are Rogue!"  
  
"According to the files, sir. They called her the Rogue."  
  
"Rogue."  
  
"Miss Rogue, pay attention please!"  
  
"You're my daughter Rogue."  
  
"Ve are siblings Rogue."  
  
"This girl, Rogue, will be the perfect subject."  
  
"Stop! No! Please! Rogue stop!"  
  
"ROUGE!"  
  
A hissing buzz filled her head, ripping through her brain, as the screams and voices of her head. 'Get out!' She screamed. 'Get out of mah mind!' The hissing continued, like a broken record, rolling round and round. 'GET OUT!'  
  
"You hurt me Ty." A soft voice whispered close to her ear. "Severed me! You think you can make me," It laughed derisively, a rattling grating sound. "Go away!"  
  
Ty swung wildly, as Gambit's firm arms caught her. "Who are you!" She cried. Blood boiling, she knew the voice, it sounded sounded so familiar. So familiar.  
  
"You wouldn't would you?" The voice hissed, crackling against Ty' pale skin. "You left me behind long ago."  
  
"Kitty, Ah don't want to be Rouge. Call me somethin' else." Rogue pleaded, her dark gray-purple eyes misting. Voice shaky, and her hands trembling, she stood silently as the flames licked up behind her from the ruins of the lab. "Somethin' different."  
  
Kitty smiled, her pure blue eyes weary. She felt like she stood on jelly legs. The cold kept her alert and awake, saving her from drowsiness. She'd overextended her powers. Everyone was dead. 'No more scientists.' She thought. 'We're free.' She wished she were dead. "I'll call you Ty then. So you like call me Kat, Kat Pryde." She didn't want to be called such an innocent name.  
  
"Ty, Ah lahke that."  
  
"Like, Ty the Rogue."  
  
"No just Ty."  
  
Ty clutched her head. "How."  
  
"You tried ta kill me!"  
  
"Rogue?" 


	13. Chapter Twelve

Hey peeps! I'm lovin' all the reviews! Makes me feel really loved! Hope you enjoy the chapter and sorry it's been taking so long, needed to keep the creative juices flowing. Did anyone see the X-men Evo episode this morning? Is it just me or are they trying to give Jean a bigger role? I'm not going to apologize to Jean fans, because she's evil, and rather useless. It doesn't coincide with the rest of the series anyway, they've always focused more on Rogue and the younger X-men. Rogue has more depth anyway! If you have any comments about the new series, particularly the latest episodes, I'd like to hear them.  
  
Jean's gotten more annoying since she and Scott got together, and they graduated.  
  
I HATE JEAN!  
  
PS. The Four Horsemen are VERY cool, it'll be interesting to see how this develops! Brainbuster!  
  
Charmed1s-Thank you for ALL your reviews! Boredom sucks, so to help you cope I decided to not keep you hanging in suspense. This chapter for you!  
  
Chapter Twelve-Voices from the Past  
  
"Kat!" Scott yelled above the din. The earth rocked beneath his feet and he stumbled sideways, eyes fixed on the collapsed figure. "Kitty!" How? Why? His mind scrambled over unanswerable questions. Semi- familiar voices were getting louder and he knew he didn't have much time, whoever was attacking this place, they'd be upon them soon. Was he strong enough?  
  
"Bazooka eyes! Get moving!" Logan roared, scooping up the unconscious Kat into his arms. "The place is trashed!"  
  
Outside loud whoops and hollers rose to the yellow full moon slung low in the sky, reaching the ears of the two men. Scott smiled, tapping his visor. 'We'll get out of this.' He told himself. 'We'll find Rogue.' "Stairs?" He called to Logan, as he hurled himself down the hall.  
  
"Best choice."  
  
~~~~~  
  
A cold arm reached from the darkness, as the bombs rained down around the city like a blinding hurricane. Two young girls huddled together beneath the protection of a cardboard roof, their faces terrified and angry. They hear the screams of those around them, running for their lives. They hear the dying moans, rising to the murky sky. Above them the horizon is stained red by sun burned smoke. Below them the cement is blackened, crusty, and cracked. Hand in hand they run. Shoved forward and thrust back by the shockwaves. They run. A whistling sound hisses through the air, and darkness cascades in around them.  
  
My name is Rogue. The words drip around Ty, like drops of water splashing on a calm lake. A faint pinging sound trickling through the darkness. The shadows wriggle as a thin ghostly form steps out of the darkness.  
  
'You're me.' Ty whispered, reaching towards the flickering shape. Her hair rustling, as her steps echoed hollowly.  
  
Nothing registered the pale girl's grey ghostly eyes, and she continued. Ah am what you left behind. Ty shivered. The part of yer soul yah lost. Sent into a darker abyss, locked into a corner of yer mind. Ah want us ta be whole.  
  
'No!' Ty hissed. 'Ah won't go back! Ah won't be her again!' She clenched her fists tightly, as fingernails clawed at her soft palms. 'Ah'm Ty.'  
  
There is a future, waiting for yah. Aht belongs ta you Rogue.  
  
'Ah'm Ty!' Ty growled. 'Ah won't be taken. Not by yah er any other apparition." Crimson blood flowed over her fingers, taking no heed, Ty snarled. 'Get out a mah mind!'  
  
Take mah hand Rogue. Ah can make thah pain go away.  
  
A wellspring of fear burst in Ty's soul. 'Ah'm not in pain.' A lie straight from hell. 'Ah accept death.'  
  
Not a good liar. Ah can feahl yer pain, Ah can make it all go away. Come with me Rogue.  
  
'Who are yah?' Ty asked fearfully. This was no aspect of her. She didn't believe this BS for as second. Tempting as it was.  
  
I'm you Rogue.  
  
'Bull Shit!' Ty screamed.  
  
Rogue, the girl reached out. Her pale fingers glowing in the writhing shadows. Palm up. Destiny calls. Suddenly her hand whipped out, seizing Ty's. Screaming they plunged into darkness. ~~~~~  
"Chere?" Gambit asked. The tortured face below him writhed and faded in a blast of white light. Leaving Gambit alone in a burned out bar, among it's frightened, moaning, and howling occupants. Dumbfounded and worried,  
  
~~~~~  
Across the city, Kat awoke screaming. ~~~~~  
  
"Welcome Rogue." 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Hey guys, I haven't updated in a while, I'm sure that's been bugging some of you. Anyway, I'm back.ready to bring some sense to the evil cliffhanger I last left you with. Hehehe.yeah. So, thanks for the reviews. I really do appreciate them. Please enjoy this chapter.  
  
Chapter Thirteen-The Gray, the Black, and the Green  
  
"Welcome Rogue, welcome to your destiny."  
  
A soft velvet voice caressed her pain-fogged mind. In the dizzy haze of one woken from a long sleep, Ty raised her head, milk white bangs falling over her grayed purple eyes. She struggled to sit up, but her hands, bound tightly behind her, blossomed in sharp pain. Forcing her to remain on bended knees, with her face ground into the icy floor. "Where am Ah?" She growled.  
  
"Now now." Smiled the gentle voice. "There's no need for anger. It mars your pretty face." A hand, gloved in black leather, cupped her chin. Caressing it lightly between thumb and forefinger. "And you know how I love your pretty face."  
  
Jerking away as if stung, Ty glared at her captor. Eyes still blurry, the shadowy figure swung in her sight, but the voice was vaguely familiar. Very familiar. "Who are yah?" She hissed, voice grinding between her teeth. Wriggling backwards.  
  
"Come my love." He laughed, stroking her cheek with a gloved finger. The sound echoed hollowly in the chamber, with a ghostly ring. "You could not have forgotten so easily." Kneeling, he tipped up her chin, so she gazed into his black sunglass hooded eyes. Hair once grimy and wild was smoothed tightly across his skull. A tight smile pasted across pale skin. Dressed in the manner of a goth, covered in the darkest shade of black, his leather shoes clacking on the hard surface. He carried a burning strength about him, an electric sting. A powerful man, he was not bulky and he was not broad, rather, he was thin and well constructed. Long arms and large hands added to his powerful frame, with legs of a young thin tree. A thin scar ran across his left cheek and over the bridge of his nose, his visage was devoid of color. Instead, a grayish tinge clung to his tight-lipped mouth, forehead, and to the inherent structure of his face. His eyebrows were of mechanical perfection, offsetting what would be a handsome well-formed face. Rather, they gave him a higher sternness that can only be found in artificial intelligence. His nose was sharp and straight, but it was not the defining feature of his countenance, instead what drew the eye, was the hooded shadows beneath his brow, and the sports sunglasses that covered his. He smiled, patting her pale cheek. "You will."  
  
"Ah don't know yah!" Ty snarled, struggling against the shackles binding her wrists. Tingles ran through her legs, and the blood drained from her feet, she grew uncomfortable. "If Ah dahd, yah wouldn't have ta capture meh."  
  
Ignoring the angry statements, he stood. "Ah, my love, anger does not suit you. You are a flower among the weeds of this planet, and a sun among the stars. Firey and proud. But you have never been quick to anger, and prefer to judge in a cold calculating fashion." The same smile fixed upon his face, he wandered beneath the domed ceiling. "You are a lady of ice." Glancing back, he met her eyes. "Am I right?"  
  
"Yah obviously don't know meh well." Ty muttered.  
  
He chuckled. Turning, head bowed, hand outstretched over the floor, a swirling cobalt vortex appeared under his hand. "Oh but I do, my love, I do." He whispered. Clenching his hand, he flung it up, and drew from the vortex a molten black chair. He settled himself comfortably between its arms, after the vortex vanished. Spreading his black trench about himself, and resting his chin upon a gloved fist, he smiled. "I do."  
  
Turning her head, she tried for a better view of her captor. "Ahs this how yah treaht all thah girls, or am Ah just special?"  
  
"Is the beautiful Rogue complaining?" He asked, his voice the picture of shocked dismay. "Oh my dear, are you uncomfortable."  
  
Ty stared. 'Who ahs this idiot?' She wondered, racking her memory. But she couldn't recall an image or a memory of this man. There was no recollection in her mind, and already she'd begun to plot her escape. 'Patience.' She reminded herself. She didn't know anything about this man, if he was a mutant or human, or something else. As Kat liked to say, she must wait for the opportune moment. But unlike Rogue and Kat, Ty had never been good at waiting. Only suffering in silence. ~~~~  
  
"Like what happened?" Kat wondered, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Groggily resting her head in callused hands, she rubbed her forehead. "The last thing I like remember was like Logan and Scott." Looking up and glancing around, she found herself perched precariously on the edge of a shaky stairwell. "Okay, like what the hell is going on!" She yelled, it was usually Ty's bit to be filled with a blinding rage, but Kat felt her cold perception and cool logic slipping. She needed to find Ty.  
  
The ground rolled beneath her feet, moaning like a woman in labor. The wind shrieked through the cracks, and familiar hated voices splintered her eardrums. Ty would have to wait. First, the intruders needed to be dealt with.  
  
"Is that you Kitty?" ~~~~ Licking his lips, the man sighed. "That just won't do."  
  
In her new upright position, Ty's view of the strange man had improved, but he was still just a stranger. With her hands bound to the stone arms of the chair, she hadn't a fool's hope of escape. All she could do was glare, and search her brain for ways to stall. "What won't?"  
  
"The way you look at me my love."  
  
"Ah'm afraid it ain't possible ta look at yah any other way." The air sizzled with her words. "Why don't yah tell meh what yah want."  
  
Opening his hands, an innocent expression molded his features. "Haven't you figured it out?" He questioned softly. "Haven't you remembered yet?" Venom dripped off each syllable, as words hissed from his snake-like mouth. "You always were the sharp one.much sharper and more wary than your counterpart.it took you longer to trust me. In those days, those dark days, there was none wiser. Except me, perhaps." He smiled again. "Yet you say you don't know me. How could you not my love?"  
  
Blood trickled, rose red, down brow across her white skin. A bubbling snarl rose in her mouth, curling her lip, she spat. "Ah don't know ah mutant with your abilities! Ah don't know yah! And Ah do not know why Ah'm here!"  
  
He rose, strode across the gray expanse separating them, and drove his hand into her jaw. Her head snapped sideways, and red liquid ran from the corner of her mouth. "We planned it!" He screamed. "You lying bitch!" Pounding his fist into her turned face. "We planned it all." Several strands of hair limply fell over his bleached forehead. "You will remember." He hissed into her ear. "Even if I must whip those memories out of you." Slowly he stood, smoothing back his hair. "You will help me." With a wave of his hand he banished her back into darkness. The last words accompanying her were his. "Even if insanity must take you there." ~~~~  
  
Pietro stood, his fingers caressing the creases of the faded picture, gazing at the members of the former Brotherhood. 'These boys.no, these men.' He corrected himself thoughtfully. 'They are what Mystique wished for in the days we fought Xavier.' But he could not understand or take part in the battle. Not even for old times sake.  
  
"You will not help us?" Avalanche questioned, his eyes burning into Pietro's. "No." He answered calmly. "Why are you planning on attacking those girls? What are they to you?" "They have something I want." Avalanche snarled back, his handsome face contorted viciously into a writhing mass of hatred. "They have something I need." Pietro laughed, a hardened bitter edge clung to it. "You're sure this has nothing to do with Kat Pryde?" He asked. "What would it matter if it did?" "Then I can't help you, and I won't."  
  
Senseless violence.where it once excited him.disgusted him. As a veteran of the War, he'd seen enough pointless violence to satisfy him. The sight of both mutants and humans gallantly offering their lives for the same and yet different dreams soured his views of mutant superiority. The chaos and fear still haunted his nights, as the face of Kat Pryde so often did. Pietro watched them vanish into the tall skyscraper, as four-foot chunks of cement and asphalt sprayed into the air, as the ground rolled in contractions, and as the air shrieked. He listened to the screams, and the earth's moans. And felt no compassion towards the men inside. None at all.  
  
~~~~  
  
Kat gazed into familiar dark eyes. "Logan." She nodded. "What's like going on?"  
  
"Far as I can figure?" Logan shrugged, chuckling throatily, his voice grating like gravel. "Our old friends, The Brotherhood are making a bid for this place." He leaned casually against the wall. "Scott's at the bottom." He nodded downwards. "Do they try this often?"  
  
With a sigh, Kat pushed herself to shaky feet. "Mostly." Dusting off her bum, she asked. "How many?"  
  
"Three." He laughed softly. "Nothing we can't handle."  
  
'Nothing we can't handle.'  
  
Loathing filled her voice, for a moment she'd forgotten. "I can like handle this on my own Logan, I don't need you."  
  
"No." He smiled gruffly. "But we need you."  
  
"Fine, we'll do this for old times sake."  
  
"For old times sake." 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Hey guys, I hoped you liked the last chapter.. I swear our antagonist will be revealed in this one! Please review, it gives me inspiration and helps me get the new ideas out. Thank you for all your support.  
  
Disclaimer-I don't own X-men Evo or any of their characters, k! No suing! Flames are fine, but do not sue!  
And if you must flame, be creative.don't give me a simple statement of "this story sucks" tell me what I need to improve upon, and that way I can improve and you won't need to flame me any longer. K?  
  
PS-most of the new characters revealed in the chapter are entirely of my own creation, and belong solely to me, so please don't steal them, and if you wish to use them(though I have no clue why.) Ask my permission first, I'm likely to grant it, just ask first. Extra-Everyone should be meeting up soon (with the exception of Ty of course who is in fact missing)  
  
Chapter Fourteen-Gray Winter  
  
She did not know how long she hung in darkness. It seemed an eternity. With the shadows spinning about her laughing and giggling like children, rhythmically wriggling in a silent beat. Every so often there would be a spasm of white cutting through the darkness and through her. She hung in bursting pain. Continual and endless. She opened cracked lips to scream, a parched throat offering only soundless tones. Finding no strength to fight her captivity, she merely hung. Immune to the pain, and silently screaming, until her strength fled from her, and her consciousness vanished. Allowing the stars to burst around her, and the pain to cut through her. For there was no strength and she had nothing left. She hung in darkness and in unbearable pain. She did not know how long she hung. She hung for eternity. And the world spun by.  
  
"Hey." Cool fingers brushed her cheek. The voice uttering the words was low and hoarse, barely above a whisper. Small abrasions covered the palms of her caretaker and itched Ty's skin. "Wake up." The voice murmured, urgency wound around the tones. "You must wake up."  
  
"Where ahm Ah?" She whispered, pushing herself off of the floor. Brushing back sweat soaked hair, running her fingers over her face, almost unaware of her companion. Fatigue filled her and she face planted into the floor.  
  
A dry laugh answered her. "You're in paradise." The sarcastic words strained to burned ears.  
  
"Here." A kinder voice smiled and callused familiar hands lifted her chin, Ty gazed up at an angular face. "Drink this." A rough cup was placed against her lips and tipped. Sticky sour liquid spilled down an unwilling throat. Sputtering, coughing, Ty tried to break away, the hands were surprisingly firm. "Drink." The order came again.  
  
"Winter is too kind."  
  
"Maybe you're not gentle enough."  
  
"You know he'll beat kindness out of you."  
  
"Hush, there's no need to frighten her."  
  
"Perhaps she should be frightened."  
  
The kind hands of Winter stroked Ty's hair. "Don't listen to them." She murmured softly, her voice a gravel whisper. "He'll leave you alone for now. You're too weak to be of any use."  
  
"Who are yah?" Ty growled, trying to wiggle away from the strange woman. Her body burned with pain, and her eyes hurt in the darkened light. The floor was hard on her sore back, but she could barely move.  
  
Winter smiled, and a chill passed through Ty. She knew this woman. "I am Winter. It's not surprising you don't remember me, Rouge." Opening her eyes, Ty glared at the petite woman. A raggedy gray shirt hung loosely from Winter's figure, and blue jeans worn and torn with age clung to her hips and legs. Her waist was all too thin, and like the rest of her body it was small, just like her child size hands, feet, and ears. It took Ty two glances to comprehend how thin she was. She looked anorexic, and probably was. Her jaw seemed cut to fit her angular face, with a petite mouth and nose, she appeared child-like and weak. And it was impossible to predict her age, for a simple black bandanna covered her eyes. Blonde-white chin length tendrils clung to her jaw, and supported the angular cut of her countenance. Shadows rippled across the creases of her visage, enhanced by the countless slashes and cuts that covered her nose, cheeks, forehead, and chin. "He is impatient." She nodded slightly, her head bobbing. Leaning down she whispered in Ty's ear. "I won't let him hurt you."  
  
'I won't let thahm hurt yah.'  
  
Ty blinked. "Ah know yah." She whispered, the words scratching from her still parched throat. Her healing factor should've healed all the pain she was feeling. Running a limp tongue over her lips she tasted the iron of blood. "Ah know yah." She whispered as darkness greeted her eyes again.  
  
***  
  
They dragged a struggling girl down the metallic corridor, her hair bleached white hung about her chin. She flung herself left and right in a vague attempt to free herself from their hard grip. Dark molten silver footprints remained where she'd stepped, mingling with the blood dripping down her ankles. And the men dressed in organic fabrics. They marched her down, until they stopped in front of a similar gray door. Hitting the button, the soldier laughed. With a whoosh the door opened, and he shoved her inside. "Welcome home."  
"Hey Roguey, here's another for you to zap." The other called menacingly. "Whatchit girlie, this one's a real monster."  
  
Glancing up, Rogue watched the younger girl stumble in. Her face, arms, torso, and legs coated in sticky rose-colored blood. The frightened creature scrambled on unstable legs to the far corner of the simple cell. To Rogue, she looked like one of the frightened rabbits some of the boys would chase at the Institute, and her heart went out to her. There she hunkered down, burying her blood-soaked white hair into her knees, rocking back and forth. She whimpered softly. Rogue approached her new roommate, one gloved hand outstretched. Though she needn't worry about her skin here, the collar took care of that, Rogue still made a habit of wearing her gloves. "Hey." Rogue whispered, stroking the girl's hair. "Aht's all rahght." Listening to the rattling cries of the petite creature, worries filled the older girl. She didn't know how to care for another. 'Ah'm no good at thahs.' She thought. 'Damn, this ahs the sorta thang Kitty's good at.' "You're gonna be all rahght." Rogue told her softly, patting her head. "You're gonna be all rahgt. Ah won't let 'em hurt yah."  
  
Beneath her hand, the girl shuddered and flinched away from Rogue's touch. An unintelligible mumble escaping into the muffled silence, and blood plip-plopped onto the cold stainless steel floor. Rolling onto one side, the girl continued to cry, leaving Rogue to pat her head in silence.  
  
"Hey Tiger!" An inmate one door over called. "Don't waist your time on that one." Rogue glanced over at the inches thick glass wall, two young men ogled at her. Their hollowed eyes and sallow faces made for a less than cheery sight. She glared at them. "I heard from the boss man that she's incorrigible and their planning on processing her soon." One of the gray eyed men laughed. "Probably gonna strap her down and let ya suck to juices outta her." His eyes grew dreamy. "Yah, thas' what's gonna happen."  
  
"Ah won't let 'em execute another one!" She snarled back. "Keep yer mouth shut Johannson." A mirthless twinkle danced in her gray purple eyes. "How do yah know thaht yah ain't the one their plannin' on usin' next." Rogue turned from him, she wasn't interested in listening to his useless answer. 'That's what most of thah broken mutants are ahn thahs stinkin' place. Broken.' Rogue herself felt nothing like the girl who'd been an X-man at Xavier's institute. 'Ah'll nevah feel safe again.' She thought wistfully of those bright days, existing now only in her mind's eye. Never again, she knew. Glancing back at the painfully slim child, she winced, wondering what their plans were for this innocent creature. 'Ah won't let 'em destroy another lahfe.' She promised herself. "What's yer name?" She asked the child softly.  
  
The girl raised her eyes, what was left of them, Rogue stared into the bloody holes of mashed skin unblinkingly. "You're not afraid." The girl's voice was soft and hoarse, bone chilling as a winter breeze in New York.  
  
The older girl felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped upon her skull. She smiled and shook her head. "Nah." Allowing herself a warm half-chuckle, she said. "Ah've seen injuries ten tahmes worse."  
  
"Oh, then you've seen a girl coated in her life's blood before?" The innocent question forced a real smile onto Rogue's frozen lips. The girl cocked her head, voice hard and lonely, and Rogue was reminded of herself.  
  
'Thas kid's a real loner.' She smiled. "Nah, Ah've nevah seen thaht. But Ah've seen plenty ah thangs that'll make yer skin crawl."  
  
"Doubt it." The girl, turned away from her. "I'm the biggest monstrosity you've probably ever seen."  
  
"Fer starters kid, you ain't a monstrosity. Yer just different, lahke me." Rogue sighed. 'Ah sound lahke Logan.' She thought, trying to recall the words he'd said to her. Because they seemed right for the occasion, his words were always straightforward and honest. Not at all like so many speeches the other instructors often gave. He'd been honest, and he'd been there. Now she was here, and this kid needed her as much as she'd needed Logan. "Ah won't lie to yah, yah ain't pretty, but yer fine so long as yer good on the inside. If yer good there, it won't matter what yah are on the outside. Yah ain't a monster." She hiked a thumb at the door. "Thah men out there, they're monsters. And Ah'll bet yah ain't nothin' lahke 'em."  
  
"How do you know I'm not worse?"  
  
"'Cause." Rogue sighed, pulling her favorite bandanna from it's hiding place beneath the pillow of her sleeping pallet. She wrapped it tightly around the girl's sockets. "Yer in here, an' they're out there."  
  
Touching the bandanna, the girl smiled. "I like the color."  
  
"What's yer name." Rogue asked softly, finding a comfortable seat in the back wall, becoming ever comfortable with the kid, she was developing an sisterly liking for the girl.  
  
Shaking her head, like the wagging of a dogs tail, she cuddled against the wall. "Don't got one." She whispered. "Nope, nope, I don't got one."  
  
"Why not?" Rogue asked gently, the girl still held a chill about her, and the room felt several degrees colder. "Everybody's got ah name." Except her of course, she made due with Rogue. She was unable to remember her given name.  
  
"I'm a new person now. I'm not the girl I was for the past fifteen years anymore. I'm someone new, and I'm different."  
  
"Bein' a mutant doesn't make yah a new person." Rogue tried. 'Ah wonder what happened.'  
  
"It does if your family sells you to an institute that's supposed to cure your problems. But instead it makes you worse!" She gritted her teeth. "I don't know what to call myself, call me anything you want. I never want to be known by that name again!" She spat, as blood mixed with spittle splattered the floor before her.  
  
'This ahs all too familiar.' Rogue thought staring down at the kid, no the teen, she was hardened and soft all at once. Reminding Rogue of a girl she knew all too well, herself. "Ah'll call yah Winter then."  
  
"Why Winter?" The girl asked.  
  
"'Cause yah remind meh of the cold and lonely winters of Bayville, New York."  
  
***  
  
"Yer thah cold and lonely winters of Bayville." Ty muttered opening her eyes. Winter had moved across the small room, tending to another girl. The blind woman moved agilely, her hands cleaning and bandaging old wounds, and newly opened ones. Rolling onto her stomach, she attempted to rise. "Winter."  
  
"You should stay put." Winter responded calmly. "Your wounds are healing, and without the help of your healing factor, it's going to be a long and slow road."  
  
"What do yah mean?" Ty demanded. "Ah feahl fine." Running her tongue over her lips, she felt the bumps of scabs and faint taste of iron. Where she'd been punched was puffy, and stung when she pressed her cool fingers against it.  
  
Her caretaker chuckled dryly. "That's the result of a painkiller, Dorin makes, mix it with water and you've got some good genuine stuff. I gave you some a few hours ago. It'll wear off in another hour or so, you should get some more sleep." The woman stood, glaring at Ty as she tried to stand. "Doctor's orders."  
  
Collapsing to one knee, Ty heaved a few heavy breaths. Her lungs weighed ten tons in her chest, and they were about to cave in. "Where am Ah?" She asked.  
  
"You ma'am aren't getting' any answers until you sit your butt back down." Winter stated pointedly. "And rest a while." Winter set an example by gracefully sinking into a cross-legged position.  
  
Relieved, though she tried hard not to show it, and kept to regular breathing patterns, Ty sank back resting her back against the steely wall. "Tell meh, where am Ah?"  
  
"Your back in the place you hate."  
  
"Ah'm in Canada!" Ty exclaimed. "Ah'm there."  
  
"Yes, you're here." Winter sighed defeatedly. "Trust me, I hate it as much as you do. But he's got the collars activated again, and the rest of us can't use our powers. There's really no hope of escape." She heaved, a hated acceptance upon her face. "I've tried every way I know, tested every lock. Tried to break the collar." She shook her head. "Doesn't work. It's best to pretend like your going along with him."  
  
"An' who he?" Ty asked. "He calls me 'my love', lahke he know meh. Ah don' remembah."  
  
"He's the Sculpter, as he calls himself. A right old monster. His real name is Adrian Black. Apparently he was an inmate here, and rather fixated on you." She shrugged. "All I know is that his powers are like mine, and he's strong."  
  
"How dahd he get yah?" Ty asked softly.  
  
"Why do you call yourself Ty?" Winter asked suddenly. She sharpened and sat straighter.  
  
"Because so many thangs have happened ta meh, that Ah'm not that girl anymore. Yah of all people understand that." She glanced at her old friend, her protégé of sorts. Winter just laughed, the same gravelly wind- chilling laugh.  
  
"You still look like the Rogue to me. Sound like her too."  
  
"Aren't yah bein' a bit hypocritical?" Ty asked seriously. "Yer thah one who didn' want ta keep her name, yah gave meh thah idea."  
  
"I've reconciled that, it took me five years, but it was well worth it. I can forgive them their transgressions against me. I know my parents have been tortured by their decision, and will be for the rest of their lives. I on the other hand, can walk with a smile and never look back. Because I accepted that it's a part of my life, and it's the past. There's nothing I can do to change it, so I plan on accepting it, and walking on." Giving Ty a warm smile, she walked towards some of the others having their lie down. "You'll always be the Rogue, no matter what name you wear." 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Hey folks, I know it's been FOREVER! But hey, thanks to your persistent reviewing, I've got another one up and running.keep sending the reviews, and the time periods between updates will probably be shorter.  
  
Disclaimer-I do not own X-men Evo  
  
Special Thanks-Ashdfox, who designed my villains (you know which ones) I wanted to let ya know, I couldn't have done it with out you! Thanks for all your support love!  
  
Chapter Fifteen-Bread and Water  
  
Rat tap, rat tap, rat tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.. A gray waxen spidery index finger clicked incessantly on the smooth enamel surface. Molten cobalt glimmering softly in the dull light of the oval room. Tap, tap, tap. Flesh stretched tightly across bone, withered creases bulging out of indentations of muscle. Ratta tap tap. Beating in a constant rhythm the nail clicked. Tap, tap, ratta tap tap. Sharpened and curved, the thin claw repeated the eerily pulsating beat, like a cockroach rubbing it's legs. Beneath hooded eyebrows, underneath black lenses, waxy eyelids fluttered shut. Lips jerking into a suavely possessive smile, as he calmly clutched a tiny crystal teardrop between his thumb and forefinger. The gem hung from a linked chain of light silver, almost moonlight in coloring, it's diamond shape glowing an almost perfect milky white. Incandescent rays glittering off its stainless edges penetrated corners stinking of musty gloom. Alighting the dark iron floor beneath his black booted feet. Shadowing the sunken hollows of his eyes and cheeks, the rippling wrinkles of his forehead, and deepening the lines around his eyes. Caressing the smooth surface, he inhaled deeply, breath rattling in his chest.  
  
"Sculptor."  
  
"What is it Seraphim? I'm busy." The cultured voice of Adrian Blacks tone hissed, as he gave the teardrop jewel another loving stroke. Irritation mingled with displeasure in his words. With a tired sight, Sculptor placed the chain around his neck, leaving the pendant to sway undisturbed about his chest.  
  
The husky bare-chested form of Seraphim, long titanium quarterstaff in one bear-paw hand, and a long revolver in the other, slipped silently out of the darkness. Long pink scars traced themselves across his bronze skinned chest, as a short hash mark cut across his shoulder. He positioned himself militarily, back stoic and straight, beside the door. "Another prisoner tried to escape." In the flat tones of the man's voice, there were no inflections, no dips, no squeaks, nothing otherwise suggesting emotion. They were monotonous, lifeless, dead. His stalwart stance, cold as the north wind's breeze, remained in statuesque posture.  
  
"What did you do?" Lips tucking in a pleasured smile, gray skin drawn tight around his mouth, Adrian twisted his black-gloved hand, turning his chair to face Seraphim, he whispered. "You know my orders."  
"I killed her."  
  
Sculptor leaned back, relaxing into his stiff chair. The metal wriggled, glowing softly in the harsh darkness. Reconfiguring to fit his current pose. Smile still fixed firmly in place, he raised his hooded gaze to the towering form of Seraphim. "Ah." He began, in the ambiance of one reprimanding a child. "And which one did you kill?"  
  
Seraphim's visage showed no visible reaction to his boss's condescending tone. Not that it could. The left portion of his face was a charred mass of tissues, receding to the back of his skull. Crisply burnt charcoal skin flaked off his blackened lips. Left half of his mouth twisted into either a sinisterly maimed smile or an unearthly grimace. Adrian was never sure. A long scar traced from forehead to jaw, running through his eye. It was deep, revealing sections of bleached white bone, and muscle. No longer were there hairs marking an eyebrow, after all, they'd been singed off by scalding heat. It remained a gruesome mask of scarred flesh. The right was no less disturbing. Hidden beneath a flat white slate curving around his face and skull, exposing only ear, eye, and patches of spiky black hair. A long blacks slash mirrored his left half across his eye. Sculptor decided that whatever human features remained on this man were hidden by that mask. Allowing only the paralyzed expressionless half to exist. The last living piece of Seraphim existed only in his remaining eye. It burned slowly and steadily with internal fire, a brilliant orb of brown meshed with gold. It had a way of piercing the soul. That engulfing desire for revenge. "Does it matter." His stated coldly, allowing only the barest perception of a shrug. "As long as the job gets done?"  
  
Adrian chuckled, his laughter mirthlessly dry. "No, it doesn't." Holding up a slender finger, he smiled. "If they weren't from prison cell 666." He evaluated quietly, the reactions of his man. "Did you fight her with collar or without."  
  
"She managed to deactivate it." Seraphim never bothered questioning his boss, the man knew the comings and goings of his building. He knew which prisoners escaped.  
  
"Really?" Surprised dripped from Adrian's words. The gray man tapped his chin. "They are growing more resourceful. You made an example of her, I presume."  
  
"I left her carcass hanging in the mess. They'll all see it."  
  
"Good, next time beat the girl, don't kill her. They all have their uses."  
  
"Yes sir." Seraphim turned to go.  
  
"One moment." Adrian called. "Tell Setsuna I want a word. He'll need to reevaluate the tracking systems on the collars, and the alerts. I don't want any more unplanned escapes." Tongue coursed over his lips, as he turned away from the huskier man. "There will be no more unplanned escapes."  
  
"Is that all?" Adrian grinned in the gloom, Seraphim sounded almost plaintive.  
  
"Yes, get going." With a long index finger he tapped his temple. "Boss wants a word."  
  
"The Council?"  
  
Shaking his head, Adrian stood. "No, they're the liaison, the usual one." He pursed his lips. "She wants a word.a private communiqué. It should prove interesting, if not pleasurable." Laughing melodiously, Adrian turned, waving away his lackey. "Go tell Setsuna and inform Fortune to.begin rehabilitation of my dear Rogue."  
  
"Of course." Seraphim vanished silently, a quiet click of the steel door remained as remnants of his passing. 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Hey people, sorry I've neglected you, but here's a gift from me to you on my birthday, enjoy!  
  
Chapter Sixteen-Bread and Water II  
  
"We've got a plan." Logan turned, dust and grime peeking out from the creases of his grizzled visage, a wane smile cresting tired lips.  
  
"That's a start." Kat, wincing slightly as she leaned against the wall, stated. Voice cold like a first winter's breeze, the large irises of her eyes like small chips of blue ice, she gazed at him. Lean form resting with cat-like grace senses attuned to all in the room and every sound outside. Her dark hair clung to darkly stained cheeks, aura burning with cold fire. Nor did she notice the muck and grim clinging to her pant-legs or the rips in her tank top, even that her hair was messy and out of place. Logan knew the old Kitty was long gone from this wily woman. With a finger impatiently twitching over the trigger of her rifle, she was enough to make a man nervous.  
  
Logan wanted to chuckle, this woman reminded him of a G.I. Jane. Instead he swallowed his mirth, and lifted a craggy and dusty finger. "But that depends on how attached you are to this old building."  
  
"A building is a building." Sucking on bloody knuckles, she did not bat an eye. Spitting crimson onto the cracked floor, she turned from him. Hoping that he would not see her thoughts reeling in her head. 'Where's he going with this?' The words trespassed through her mind, a master statement of naivety. She knew what he wanted to do. Craftily regarding him, she asked softly. "Are you like planning a trap?" Logan was not known for being clever, and this trick was the oldest one to play. But the Brotherhood in turn suffered from a brainless lack of clarity, and fell for any trap. It would work. 'It requires a hefty sacrifice.'  
  
Outside the distant sound of Scott yelling for backup, and the blazing of his eyes, reached their ears. The earth groaned beneath their feet, and the foundation of the building rocked again. Steadying himself, Logan said. "Something like that." His eyes bore into hers. "Are you willing to sacrifice it."  
  
The chilling sensation she'd felt from the beginning twisted painfully around her gut. She knew what he meant to destroy...the last place she had left. Her home, the one place dearest to her heart, this was her last sanctuary. She glanced around at the cracked plaster of the walls, the dark stains, the peeling wallpaper, the hemorrhaged carpets; this place was stained with her sweat, her blood! It was christened by flying bullets. This place was hers. She'd laid her claim and fought and fought until none could rise to challenge her and Ty...TY! No, no, this was just a building. Sadly she ran her fingers over the concrete and its shattered pieces, the sharp abrasions slicing her palms, a pang ringing sadly in her heart. This place did not matter. Finding Ty was important. Kat glanced up the rising stairs twisting to the top like a spiraling candy cane, 'As long as Ty is alive, I'll still have my family.' With a long sigh, she wiped a single tear from her cheek, and turned to face Logan once more.  
  
Watching the sweeping sadness take hold of her countenance, Logan was sure her earlier words were a farce. 'This building is not just a building.' He thought softly, this downtrodden, roach infested, crumbling building on this ruined world was not her home, it was her sanctuary. He knew it was not right to ask her to destroy it. But as he opened his mouth to speak, Kat's hardened whisper silenced him, and hung in the stale air.  
  
***  
"You have her?" The words echoed around him in a thousand different voices. "She is contained?"  
  
Adrian glanced up, legs aching as he remained on bended knee. His dark trench coat flapped aimlessly about his waist and lower body, refusing to stay inanimate upon the floor. Black hair plastered to his forehead, sunglasses glinting in the gloom. "Yes, everything is as you have planned." Voice filled with serpentine adoration, he bowed lower.  
  
"I have no need for a sycophant Adrian." The voice thundered, curving form leaning forward, almost revealed from within the black shadows worn upon her body. "Those are easily found, treasured servant." It became softer than velvet as the tones caressed the dome room, and the man bent upon the floor. Voluptuous hips and breasts remained tantalizingly hidden beneath fluttering black silk. Luxurious hair tumbled around her shoulders, innocently seductive. Her face remained beyond the impenetrable curtain of darkness. "Remain above such petty ideals, servant, for you are most assuredly a diamond in the rough."  
  
'Hers is certainly the face of Aphrodite.' Adrian contained his thoughts cautiously, knowing his mistress was a mutant of great power.  
  
"I have removed the fog that hides from us the future. Soon, my servant, very soon our awakening shall be realized and all will again tremble before us." The power of her words commanded his attention, as he knelt in reverence. "Or fall!"  
  
"But what of the colonies? There are whispers that a second tournament is to be formed." Adrian hissed, raising his eyes to hers. "You know as well as I my Lady, that the earth cannot survive another assault."  
  
The shadow woman stretched, peals of warm ethereal laughter echoed throughout the hollow room. For all the warmth of her voice, there was no mirth, and Adrian shivered slightly as it touched him. "It is not your concern. Cobra has frozen the working gears of the League of Nations, as a simple frost delays a jet mobile's engine. No dearest servant, there will be no second tournament. The bureaucrats bicker amongst themselves, and with the latest attempt upon their lives they now see assassins around each and every corner. Dear servant, the League of Nations is little more than a dancing marionette, and I am the one pulling its strings." She spread her hands. "By the time they see past the shroud so cleverly laid across their eyes, they will find themselves already in the belly of the beast." Sweetly, in a motion of abject innocence and eternal wisdom, she said. "It has all come forth as I have foreseen." Her voice became far off, as she continued. "Soon my dearest Sculptor, our plans shall come to fruition and we shall reap our rewards."  
  
Adrian leaned eagerly upon his knees. "What is your bidding?" His question alive and dancing within the inky shadows of the hollow room, gaze fixed firmly upon the hologram before him. "What must we do?"  
  
"Patience, my eager viper, patience." He felt her dark smile upon him, and beneath it the stirrings of a soul blacker than his own. The mental brush of her mind against his in the softness of a kiss, passed across him, and he knew exquisite pleasure would be enjoyed this night. "For now you will continue implantation of memories into the minds of your captives. And..." She raised a solitary finger, stating coldly, said. "Continue the torturing of your latest captive." The shadow's crystalline voice rose to almost a shriek. "Break her!" The hologram vanished, and Adrian relaxed into darkness as his mind melded with another's in pleasure.  
  
***  
  
"Yes." The word was strained, cracking on the surface like thin ice. However beneath the weak frame were the freezing black waters of commitment. Any unsure feelings vanished as easily as sadness fled, and the eyes that met his were hard and devoid of emotions he'd previously known. "A building is just a building." Kat's eyes turned toward the writhing battle outside. "What did you have in mind?" 


End file.
